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  •  ♥♥♥ (16+ / 0-)

    Beautifully said, my friend. Thanks for putting into words what many of us couldn't.

    xoxo,
    ear

    Ho'oponopono. To make things right; restore harmony; heal.

    by earicicle on Sat Jul 17, 2010 at 09:41:43 PM PDT

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    •  words kind of failed me (14+ / 0-)

      first i had my mom...
      in the subject header.
      and then i thought that was no respectful to Lefty, so put the heart there for his mom.
      forgetting to then put my mom...in front of Is older than your mom.
      sigh.

      this diary made me so sad for many reasons.

      love you ear.

       

      "Oh no...you changed your hair color? It's just so dark. You like it? And with your skin tone?" My Beloved Mom, December 25 2007, once again on notice.

      by Christin on Sat Jul 17, 2010 at 10:16:15 PM PDT

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      •  asdf... (11+ / 0-)

        Love you too, Christin.

        Don't be sad. Let's focus on sending out our love to Lefty Coaster tonight.

        ♥♥♥

        Ho'oponopono. To make things right; restore harmony; heal.

        by earicicle on Sat Jul 17, 2010 at 10:36:01 PM PDT

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        •  i know. (13+ / 0-)

          you are right.
          i am crying.
          this is not unusual.
          i am the person you do not want to sit near in a theater if the movie is sad.
          (my SO was mortified  when we saw Philadelphia, The March of the Penguins, and about ten other movies in the theater.
          you do not want to sit next to me in a funeral home either.

          do you know this poem?
          i used to carry this with me.
          i had lost, or we had lost, people we loved.
          i did not know how get up off my knees for a while. .
          i don't know when i stopped.
          carrying this with me.
          but i used to make sure for some reason that is was always in my briefcase or purse.
          and then one day i just did not make sure anymore.

          it is a good poem for Lefty and a lot of other people here who lost people who still own their hearts.

          A Consoling Famous Death Poem

          Death is Nothing At All
          Death is nothing at all.
          I have only slipped away to the next room.
          I am I and you are you.
          Whatever we were to each other,
          That, we still are.

          Call me by my old familiar name.
          Speak to me in the easy way
          which you always used.
          Put no difference into your tone.
          Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow.

          Laugh as we always laughed
          at the little jokes we enjoyed together.
          Play, smile, think of me. Pray for me.
          Let my name be ever the household word
          that it always was.
          Let it be spoken without effect.
          Without the trace of a shadow on it.

          Life means all that it ever meant.
          It is the same that it ever was.
          There is absolute unbroken continuity.
          Why should I be out of mind
          because I am out of sight?

          I am but waiting for you.
          For an interval.
          Somewhere. Very near.
          Just around the corner.

          All is well.

          Death Poem by Henry Scott Holland ~ 1847-1918
          Canon of St. Paul's Cathedral ~ London. UK

          "Oh no...you changed your hair color? It's just so dark. You like it? And with your skin tone?" My Beloved Mom, December 25 2007, once again on notice.

          by Christin on Sat Jul 17, 2010 at 10:59:12 PM PDT

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          •  ♥♥♥ (8+ / 0-)

            Beautiful.

            When you're ready to smile, read Noel Coward's Blithe Spirit, a play he wrote in 1941 just after Nazi bombs destroyed his apartment and offices during the London Blitz. A delightful comedy--truly silly on its surface. But with a poignant subtext about how love endures beyond death.

            The play opened in July of that year, and it struck such a chord with Brits--surrounded by death from the war--that the original run outlasted the war itself.

            Back to work for me.

            Love you...

            Ho'oponopono. To make things right; restore harmony; heal.

            by earicicle on Sat Jul 17, 2010 at 11:43:11 PM PDT

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            •  and when you're ready for laughter, (6+ / 0-)
              amid the tears, read christopher moore's book "a dirty job".

              he wrote this after both his and his wifey/girlfriend's moms died with months of each other.

              his perspective on life and living and death brings awe to the gift we all have of sharing or just spending time on this earth.

              i read the book shortly after my cousin died - it brought so much comfort.  the sometimes strange way we view death was no less strange than how chris describes the transition.

              my heart sends love and peace to you.

              my mom is 93 - she just returned from her second stay in a convalescent home from falling.  she is mentally sharp but her body is beginning to fail her.  when we all look at our parents - or even our own bodies as they age, we are reminded that it is what we do with our "nows" that matter.

              i am so glad you were able to be with the universe when your mother joined that greater space.  i hope you go and re-do that bike ride in her honor.

              MOVE'EM UP! ROLL'EM OUT... MOVE'EM UP RAWHIDE!!! meeeoooow! mrraaarrr!! meeeOOOOOW!

              by edrie on Sun Jul 18, 2010 at 01:28:31 AM PDT

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            •  Blithe Spirit (2+ / 0-)
              Recommended by:
              GreyHawk, earicicle

              wow, didn't know all that about that play! I saw it performed years ago (on a date and I've been married nearly 20 yrs....) and really enjoyed it. now I've got to get it and read it again. thank you earicle....

              que toda la vida es sueño, y los sueños, sueños son...Calderón de la Barca

              by Mom to Miss M on Sun Jul 18, 2010 at 04:49:54 AM PDT

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          •  This too is a fitting poem (6+ / 0-)

            Do not go gentle into that good night,
            Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
            Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

            Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
            Because their words had forked no lightning they
            Do not go gentle into that good night.

            Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
            Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
            Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

            Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
            And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
            Do not go gentle into that good night.

            Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
            Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
            Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

            And you, my father, there on the sad height,
            Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
            Do not go gentle into that good night.
            Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

            by Dylan Thomas

            "These old Wall Street boys are putting up an awful fight to keep the government from putting a cop on their corner." - Will Rogers

            by Lefty Coaster on Sun Jul 18, 2010 at 03:43:06 AM PDT

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          •  with tears rolling down my cheeks (3+ / 0-)
            Recommended by:
            GreyHawk, earicicle, ridemybike

            just a-blubbering over here! but, such a nice poem. I'm going to have to copy that one. thank you for taking the time to post it.

            que toda la vida es sueño, y los sueños, sueños son...Calderón de la Barca

            by Mom to Miss M on Sun Jul 18, 2010 at 04:53:41 AM PDT

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          •  What a beautiful poem (2+ / 0-)
            Recommended by:
            earicicle, ridemybike

            I hadn't read it before.  Thanks for sharing it.  

      •   Love You, Christin (7+ / 0-)

        With my whole heart. Your heart is a magnificent thing...

        With humble thanks. I don't do well with this.  But I am so  grateful that you do.

        You can't always tell the truth because you don't always know the truth - but you can always be honest.

        by mattman on Sat Jul 17, 2010 at 10:36:09 PM PDT

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        •  {{{{{matt}}}}}}}} (8+ / 0-)

          remember i told you once ?
          oh why should you remember..but i  said i know we disagree on some things lately.
          but on the stuff that means more, there is absolutely nothing I don't agree with you on.    that has not changed. it never will.
          before that,  i  said i love your passion, and your heart, and how you embrace so much.
          that will never change either.    
          i try to understand how I feel like  some people can reach out and make a impact on my life as many times as I go "oh it's just a blog...."
          that is not true sometimes.   it is sometimes more than that.
          now is one of those times.
          it's this strange  thing where i feel like I"m truly at a memorial for Lefty's mom, with you and ear, and we're  in the back of the room.
          and this is the conversation we are having.
          just strange. my imagination must be on overdrive, or i'm just letting my feelings take me where they want to go.

          "Oh no...you changed your hair color? It's just so dark. You like it? And with your skin tone?" My Beloved Mom, December 25 2007, once again on notice.

          by Christin on Sat Jul 17, 2010 at 10:47:29 PM PDT

          [ Parent ]

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