In Memory

June 3, 2010 § 2 Comments

“No man is an island entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main; if a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe is the less, as well as if a promontory were, as well as any manner of thy friends or of thine own were; any man’s death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind. And therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee.”  John Donne

I have to attend a viewing tonight.  A childhood friend of mine has passed away.  We were about the same age.  While Jaci was much closer to him than I was, I still have those blurred childish memories of Jason.  I don’t know what to do with them.  Every life, and therefore, inevitably, death, is a story.  Jason’s life is not my story.  It touches on mine for years in my childhood and now briefly again tonight, in a somber room thick with grief.  And yet I don’t think it will be the last brush.  I’ve kept Jason in my prayers for years and therefore I have the hope that, while I might not have been able to help him in life’s struggles, I have aided in my own feeble human way his soul’s journey to God.  I will meet him after death, in heaven in front of all the angels and the saints, and say hello again, old friend.  As St. Therese of Avila said, “Hope, oh my soul, hope.”



§ 2 Responses to In Memory

  • Walt says:

    OK…I had to tap out on “promontory” and look it up:

    1 a : a high point of land or rock projecting into a body of water b : a prominent mass of land overlooking or projecting into a lowland.

  • shortside40 says:

    Thanks Dad. 🙂 The readership appreciates, I’m sure!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

What’s this?

You are currently reading In Memory at findingsomethingbetter.


%d bloggers like this: