How precious our memories!

This was an old post I had never published???

Today as I was cleaning the condo and while in the bathroom I had a scary moment. I was moving things around on the bathroom vanity I heard the bowl in my hand clink against the porcelain sink. My heart sank as I thought I might have broken the bowl. Now this bowl is old and anyone one would think what’s the big deal? It doesn’t look like it’s worth anything. But it is special; Paul gave it to me and there is a story behind it. Of course the story is meaningful only to me, but if another bereaved parent should read this they would understand.

Paul was about 24 years old and just moved into an apartment that he shared with another young man. Some time later his roommate moved out. It wasn’t long after I had stopped by and noticed this pretty, but chipped bowl on the table. It had an antique look to it so I commented how I thought it was pretty and where did it come from. Well his old roommate left it behind. I asked him if I could have it and he said not really he used it for his cereal. Time went by and I had forgotten all about the bowl until one day out of the blue, Paul asked me if I still wanted it. I said yes and then he handed it over to me. It is not like it was a huge sacrifice or any big deal, but the story is a special memory. There is just a bit more to my story that I want to add. Time had passed and I was out shopping and found this big white bowl and printed in blue, it said cereal bowl. Perfect!! I bought it so I could replace the pretty bowl that Paul had given to me. I kept the big cereal bowl for a very long time and then I gave it to Jeff, Paul’s brother. Jeff and I do that from time to time, swap things that are Pauls. We share his precious things and relive our precious memories.

Dedicated In Loving Memory of Paul

This tree is dedicated to the memory of my son Paul. It is a Cleveland Pear and soon it will be in bloom and be absolutely beautiful. When the cold weather finally eased up I put these chimes on the tree. Chimes and butterflies are a connection I believe for Paul and I. I hope to get another pix soon.

I am back

Three years ago I found a church where I felt I belonged. My friend Candy from my high school days lost her son and I went to the memorial service at All Saints Lutheran Church. The pastor and the way he spoke and the words he expressed had me hooked. He read this at Adam's service.

                  The Dash

The first date is his date of birth
The following date is when God called him home,
But what matters most of all
Is the dash between those years.

For that dash represents all the time
That he spent alive on this earth …
And now only those who loved him,
Know what that little line is worth.

For it matters not how much we own:
The cars .. the house .. the cash.
What matters most is how we live and love
And how we spend our dash.

Think about this long and hard ..
Are there things you’d like to change?
For you never know how much time is left,
That still can be rearranged.

If we could just slow down enough
To consider what’s true and real,
And always try to understand
The other way people feel

And be less quick to anger,
And show appreciation more
And love the people in our lives
Like we’ve never loved before.

If we treat each other with respect,
And more often wear a smile.
Remembering that this special dash
Might only last a little while

So, when your eulogy’s being read
With your life’s action to rehash …
Would you be proud of the things they say
About how you spent your dash?