“Where do I begin?
To tell the story of how great a love can be…?
A sweet love story that is older than the sea?
The simple truth about the Love He gives to me?
…Where do I start?”
In the words of a song,
a reality echoes in my memory
and resounds,
as I sit in contemplation
of the final moments
in the life of a dear one.
Sometimes these final moments are brief and bittersweet.
Sometimes the moments are prolonged and painful.
Sometimes, these moments serve to restore something lost
(and now we’re found). The restoration of the grace of peace,
through reconciliation and forgiveness.
Our Father (in heaven) in His infinite Mercy and Love,
binds us to Himself in His (son) Crucified.
for He is the Way, the Truth and the Life.
When we open our hearts
that we may be able to see Him, alone, in the face of the dying.
To behold His beauty, His goodness,
His human weakness made strong in the Spirit.
Then, we may stand in awe,
consumed in a reverent silence,
as we are allowed the privilege in contemplating
the reality of two worlds united by the delicate thread of life:
a life, first quietly given at conception – infused at baptism,
and now departing from its physical body
in order to find its way back to its life-giving Source
and uniting to the One Most High
Creator of heaven and earth, forever.
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