Leaving Pieces Of Me Behind

 

 

 

"How would your life be different if…

You stopped making negative judgmental assumptions about people you encounter?

Let today be the day…

You look for the good in everyone you meet and respect their journey.”  

Every time I have lost a loved one to a breath beyond a breath of life I always think about how a piece of me has gone with them.  I always felt a feeling of a piece of me missing now that I don't have them with me on my walk on earth.  I have a reoccurring dream that I am walking along a long and narrow path and as I walk, with each step I take, a piece of me is left behind.  Literally, a finger, a toe, a hand, an elbow.  As I walk, parts of my body just fall off.  I have never made it to the end of that path but each time in this dream journey I go a little further and lose a little more of this shell I live in.  It is a dark and lonely path, even though it is lined with people on earth who love me. 

I always manage to wake up as I am running out of people on either side of that path.  I look beyond them to empty spaces that no doubt once held more people I love and who love me.  When I wake up from this dream I think about who I no longer see along the path I am walking on.  Who was there the last time I dreamt this, and who is no longer there.  In this dream, or these dreams I never see anyone on the path, never pass anyone, that has already gone before me.  While I am dreaming I look closely at their faces to see if anyone already gone will appear, but so far none have.

It is always one of those dreams where you think maybe if I fall back asleep I will continue where I left off and I can reach the end of that narrow path and figure out what this is all about.  So I try, but if any of you know me even a little bit, you know about my poor sleeping habits where there are nights I don't sleep at all.  It just never happens that I can fall back asleep once I have woken up.  So I just lay there and think about the meaning of this dream, or if there is any meaning to it all.

I had that dream last night.  It seems as soon as I fell asleep I had this dream.  When I woke up from it I had only been asleep for twenty minutes, which is surprising because it always feels like I am on that path, taking that walk, for hours.  I laid there trying to figure out what the pieces falling off of me represent.  That had me thinking about how I (and several others I am sure) say that when we lose someone a piece of us goes with them.  I thought about each death I have experienced when I was old enough to actually repeat that phrase and feel that piece missing.  

Why do I feel as if  'a part of me'  is missing?  I haven't left, I am still here.  It is my loved one that left.  Have they perhaps left  'a part of them'  behind with me?  Yes I concluded, they have left the memories of our time together behind for all of those who loved them to share, keeping a piece of them with us, even though they are gone.  I thought again about 'a part of me' that went with them.  Maybe it has in a way and maybe it is a part of me that I won't miss.  Maybe I let a small piece of me go to be with them on their journey to an eternal life with God. 

I don't have that answer, but I do know this, if a piece of me went with my loved ones each time they died, it wasn't the piece that they loved the most about me.  I still carry those pieces with me.  I share them with new friends and new family members that come along my way.  It would not have been a piece of me I need, I still have some living to do.  I learned from a very smart little eight year old girl that our hearts are HUGE and it will never be filled to its full capacity so we should keep filling it up with all the love we can. (Go ahead, prove her wrong.  I am trying to."  R.I.P.  Amazing Gracie, love you forever.)

I feel we are all made up of pieces of the people in our lives.  Pieces of their hearts, their souls, their minds.  Pieces of their character, pieces of their history.  I'm a firm believer that you are what you eat in life.  If you hang around with great influences, you learn the importance of you yourself being one.  If you hang around with highly spirited individuals, you to become spirited.  If you hang around with positive people, you yourself tend to be a more positive person.  As hard as it is, it is important to not include others in your life that are not happy for who you are and do not allow you to be the best you that you can be.

That is hard in today's world where everyone seems to want to point out the weakness's of others.  Everyone seems to have the desire to in all ways, be better then everyone else.  Some people focus so much on how important they are to the world, they forget that others are also just as important to the world.  There is a big difference between self confidence where you feel great about who you are, and lack of love for yourself where you find fault with everyone and everything to make yourself feel better about who you are. 

Trying to be who you are is difficult enough and when you figure in the way others treat you it becomes impossible.  The easiest way to be confident in who you are, is let others be who they are too.  Don't get so wrapped up in your own happiness that you forget to be happy for others as well.  The only part of us that will leave the earth when we die is our soul.  We might as well leave pieces of ourselves in others so when they bury our bodies, there are pieces of who we were still walking the earth.  I know I strive to leave good memories behind me in my path.  I would like to be remembered in a positive way where others can remember how I touched their lives in positive ways.

I would like to think this reoccurring dream I have is a picture, a road map, of my soul heading towards eternal life.  As it does, pieces of me are being left behind for those in my life, those that have crossed my path.  Memories for them of how well I treated them, how much I loved them.  I don't know what this dreams means, like I said, maybe it means nothing.  I do know that it at least holds value in getting me thinking about my happiness and the happiness of others.  I know how I feel when my feelings get crushed, when my dreams get laughed at, when I get judged for living life for who I am and not who others want me to be.  I hope I never leave anyone feeling hurt and that the times I do I recognize what I have done and I fix it, and learn from it.

“A kind gesture can reach a wound that only compassion can heal.”  

 

 

A Bitter Sweet Day of Life and Death

A funeral this morning, a wedding this evening.  As one family lets go of the soul of a loved one, another family welcomes a new soul into their lives.  A celebration of two lives beginning, a celebration of a life ending. 


The same church today that was booked for the union of marriage on this date several months ago, will host the funeral on this date that was planned two days ago.  Two groups of people who have never met will share the same alter, on the same day as each other, oblivious of the life that ended, or the bliss that is beginning.


Families will gather for two very different types of celebrations of life.  One full of tears of sorrow, the other full of tears of happiness.  One will honor the past days and life of young man whose journey has ended, the other will honor the future days of a young couple whose journey is just beginning. 


An alter full of flowers this morning, representing the love for the life no longer breathing a breath of air. An alter full of flowers this evening, representing the love of two people starting their lives together full of breaths of fresh air.  A music arrangement this morning of songs that pull at your heart strings reminding us that the circle of life ends here for this young man.  A music arrangement this evening of songs that lift the spirits of hearts for the love being shared by two young people. 


A slow walk up the aisle by six pallbearers, followed by the deceased body of the young man here today to be released to the hands of God.  A slow walk up the aisle by five bridesmaids and five groomsman followed by a young bride today to be united in faith to a groom.  Families of the deceased young man sitting in the pews of this church that houses the faith and trust in our Lord to comfort our saddened hearts.  Families of the young couple sitting in the pews of this church that honors our faith in the Lord to a new beginning with our joyous hearts.


A single candle will be lit to represent the eternal life that will carry this young man to his final resting place where he will sit with Jesus and be whole again.  Two candles that will be used to light a single candle to represent the union of two lives where together with Jesus this young couple will complete the final journey in life. 


Mothers sit near the alter, one watches and listens as she is told to let go of her sadness and trust in the Lord, two watch as they see their young daughter and son become one with a joyous heart.  Fathers sit along side the mothers, one strong enough to let go of the son he never imaged losing at such a young age, two witness their children leaping into lives outside their families to form their own.  Siblings sit in pews behind their parents, this morning to weep as they realize their brother will no longer come home at the end of the day, this evening to shed tears of joy and happiness as their sibling counts increased with the welcoming of a new brother or sister. 


A celebration brunch follows this mornings service where family and friends will gather in a somber mood, to share a meal together, a last supper ritual if you will.   A catered dinner will follow this evenings ceremony where family and friends will gather in a cheerful mood, to share a meal, a first supper of sorts, with the new couple. 


A limo ride for this mornings family taken to a cemetery to bury a son.  A limo ride this evening takes a new couple away from their family and friends to begin their life together.  One family is left behind with a struggle to meet the next day with open hearts and renewed faith in their belief that putting their son in God's hands for eternity is accepting God's plan.  One family is left behind and will meet the next day with joyful hearts as they remain faithful that this new young couples life will be a happy journey.


The House of God holds many celebrations in the lives of His believers.  There are wedding vows, baptisms, confirmations, and many more celebrations of life held at the alter, the front door to God's house.  Funerals are a celebration of life as well, life's lived, life's lost.  Beautiful celebrations that shower us with happiness and sorrow.  Beautiful celebrations that reflect God's plan in each and every one of us.  Daily and Weekly mass celebrations we attend to renew our faith, and encourage us to enjoy every moment we experience in the Circle Of Life under God's care.  Celebrations that bring us to our knees, celebrations that shed tears from our souls.  Celebrations of life and celebrations of death.


Today I celebrate the life of a friend through his death.  I am sad for this lost in not only my life but the life of his family and friends as well.  The memories I have made in my short walk of his short life will last through eternity, as will his soul. 


Today I celebrate the union of the lives of friends I have met through another friend.  I am looking forward to celebrating their new bond as husband and wife and watching their love grow as they move forward in their journey together.  The memories we will make in our friendship will also last an eternity. 


A bitter sweet reminder on this day of how precious life is, how short it can be, and how through death, life goes on.  Relish in every moment your loved ones are with you, cherish every celebration of life you encounter.  There will come a day when the celebration of life is the celebration of death.  Take no moments in life for granted, waste no time on anger and hate.  Let others live their lives to the fullest, even when you disagree with their method's of living.  Except nothing less then the things in life that make you happy.  Live with your soul, let your heart lead you to the end.  Never assume tomorrow will come, never regret the day that has past.  Live for today. 


We will all stumble on our path, we will all struggle with our lives.  Accept the challenge before you with an open mind, a warm heart, a fearless soul.  Leap through the loops in life as you journey towards eternity, the forever we all strive to achieve.  Let no moment of happiness slip by, take hold of what is within your reach and someday when your journey lands beyond a breath of life, your loved ones will accept your end and see it as a new beginning.


A bittersweet day full of memories and reminders of a past that has met up with a future.  New beginnings through death, new beginnings through life.  Lives that passed through the same path, one gone, two just beginning.  Two celebrations that produced moments of tears, one of sadness, two of joy.  Two rides to a new beginning, one in a hearse one in a limo.  An end. A beginning. 


A ceremony that requires "til death do us part", a ceremony the says "through death I have found eternal life".  Celebration's of life, eternal by definition. 

Yes, a bittersweet day.  Faith, Hope, and Love

215 Days of Life Before Death

Cancer took a piece of Brandon when he had to have his left leg amputated just below the knee.  It took more than a piece of his body, it also took a piece of his life.  Brandon played football and soccer but could also be seen out on a baseball field and a golf course in the summer months.  A broken leg that was the result of a tackle when he was playing football with his friends lead to the discovery that Brandon had leukemia.  I first met him at the Children's Hospital just days after the diagnosis was presented to him and his parents.  I annoyed him that first day we met and I intended to go back a couple days later and annoy him some more.  CLICK HERE TO READ HOW I MET BRANDON

Brandon's fight against cancer was not any harder, or easier, then anyone else who was fighting this disease.  I did the best I could to stay with him during his treatments and I was with him the day they discussed with him and his parents that they needed to remove his leg, or at least a portion of it.  I watched his fight level go up and down, his attitude about life go up and down, his willingness to fight harder fade.  I visited him often, bringing his homework with me and offering to help him do it so when he was well he did not fall behind in his studies.  When they amputated his leg and sent him home I often joined his family at their dinner table and helped Brandon with his studies before leaving him for the night. 

He struggled with life and it was understandable.  He lost his limb, he lost his ability to play sports with his friends, he was losing his will to live.  I pushed, harder then I thought I could push, to help him see the light at the end of the tunnel.  His parents pushed, they did not cuddle him for a single moment.  His siblings cared for him, helping him meet his every need, letting him know, cancer took a piece of you, but we get to keep the rest.  Brandon was doing so well, back in school and involved how ever he could be supporting his friends in their sports.  He was actually inspiring to those around him.  He was proving himself wrong, he was doing better then he thought he would.  He wanted to live, he was enjoying life. 

My visits to Brandon at his house were scarce these days.  He was a popular busy guy and hard to catch up with.  If I received one return text from him a week I was satisfied.  I was more then pleased with how well Brandon was embracing his life and moving on.   A few minor set backs, but each time he persevered and was right back on track.  I was proud of Brandon.  I admired him.  I loved that he kicked cancer right out of his system and short half a leg, got on with the life he loved before he broke his leg. 

Then at the end of my work day the call came from my dad.  "Brandon's cancer came back buddy.  His dad called me and would like for you to give him a call."  I knew, without being told, I knew.  I felt it, down in my soul, I felt what I was about to hear.  It had been 215 days since little Lars died.  It had been 215 days since someone I was close to had died.  It had been 215 days of my life, void of death.  As I looked at the calendar on my desk, thinking about how just this morning I wrote the number 215 in red, representing the 215 days since I last had to deal with death, I took out a black marker and circled the number.  Tomorrow I would begin my count all over again.  How many days will go by this time before someone else I love dies?

I did not want to dial Brandon's dads number, but I knew I needed to.  Not for even a second did I think I would hear anything but "Brandon is gone."  I was just that sure that the feeling I was feeling was the shadow of death creeping over my life, once again.  A guy could start to take this personal, assume he was just a bad luck charm, a grim reaper.  Sure enough, Brandon's dad briefed me on his loss.  Brandon had been sick for a couple of weeks.  The cold that never went away, never got better.  A trip to the doctor and a few days of testing confirmed what no one wants to hear, 'it's back' they told him and we need to be aggressive and decide what we would like to do. 

He told me that Brandon cried a little, but then he composed himself.  They would go back tomorrow and decide on the details of what was to happen next.  He fought this once and won, he would do it again.  We got home and Brandon just wanted to lay down and rest, he would see us at dinner.  We kept the house quiet so he rested well.  Dinner time came and when his mother went to get him to come eat, she could not wake him up.  He was gone.  He overdosed.  I'm sorry to have to tell you this, he said, you were a good friend, a great motivator to him.

I offered my condolences to his dad.  I asked if I could stop by the house tomorrow to offer them to his wife and Brandon's four siblings, all younger then his 19 years.  "Yes", he said, "the kids would like that, so would we."  I told him if there is anything I can do, please don't hesitate to ask. 

I guess even though I knew he was gone, I was stunned.  I believed it, yet it didn't seem real.  I was shocked, yet I was not surprised.  I remembered back to when Connor died, how I classified his overdose as a suicide, even though I knew he was just a wreckless party boy.  How Cedric shot a bullet right into his heart, ending his life.  I remember how angry I was at both of them for leaving the way they did.  I still get angry with them when I see their families, still very sad and suffering no matter how much they try to move on.  How I have not once ever felt sorry for either one of them because of what they left behind.  The confusion, the pain, the emptiness of the lives of their siblings, their parents, their friends.. 

But I cannot be angry at Brandon.  Watching him battle through almost one and half years of fighting off the cancer and racing back into life, with the constant reminder of what he went through each morning he tied the laces of one tennis shoe, I felt sorry for him.  He just must not of had any fight left in him.  He must of imagined what he would lose to cancer next.  Man, I just really think life should not be a struggle, or a fight.  Why does it have to be so hard?  You just get tired.  It's exhausting to keep fighting to get to stay.  I really feel sorry that Brandon's life had to tragically end because he was tired of the fight.  I hope God accepts him into his Kingdom quickly and Brandon finds his struggles are gone. 

Visiting Brandon's family this morning was tough.  It's like your heart breaking into several pieces each time you hug one of them.  Listening to them as they try to reason with themselves that everything will be ok.  His little brother, barely 10 now, not sure if Brandon will walk through that door again or not.  His sister, 13, with tears pouring out of her eyes, latching onto her daddy as if he will leave her too.  His sister, 17, clutching her dead brothers Red Sox jacket as if the tighter she squeezes it the better the chance of him being in it when she opens her eyes to look.  So much sadness, so many tears.  Will they ever be able to push forward, go on from here. 

I'm really not looking forward to the service's that will lead to the burial of Brando.  I will go, of course, he was a good friend to me, we took each other through a lot in the two years we have known each other.  I dread all the sadness his services will bring.  One more set of parents, burying their child.  As much as it hurts to bury your parents, it has to be extremely difficult to bury your child.  I hope his family and friends remember to celebrate his life as they mourn his death.  Although Brandon was too tired to fight this latest battle, he lived a great life.  He should be proud of his accomplishment, and so should we. 

"Brando my friend, my heart aches for you tonight but it also beats a bit stronger in honor of your life.  May the light of God shine on you during this next leg of your journey.  You are loved and heaven is lucky to have you so soon. RIP."


dec 2, 2012

This Old Soul, This Young Brain

Sometimes I forget I'm really just a kid, or a young man, and not the adult I would like people to think of me being at the age of twenty-two.  I often get told I have an old soul, and to a certain degree I feel that is true.  I often feel as if I might have lived before even though my church would like for me to not believe in that concept.  When my niece Olivia was born, and watching her in the almost four years she has been on earth with us, I tend to believe a little more that old souls exist and what that means to me is that your soul has lived before in the world.  She is very wise beyond her four years of age, and not just in her intellect.  She is so compassionate about other peoples feelings, often offering comfort when she really should have no idea that you are sad, or that something is bothering you. 

I guess I can see that in myself, especially in my written words.  There are time I sit at the keyboard and my fingers begin typing and before I know it I have typed a note, or a blog, or an article that I had no idea existed with-in me.  Some of things I can feel, without ever experiencing it first hand, surprise me.  Some of the things I can see, the pain seeping out of other people's souls, amaze me.  I'm by no means complaining about the thought of an old soul existing inside this young body.  It fits with my passion for embracing other peoples sadness and the need to share it with the rest of the world.  It does not come without a price, but I am learning to deal with that price as I get older.

Sometimes that price consists of forgetting that my brain is not my soul.  That I am in fact just twenty two and I still need to remember to respect others whether I feel I am right in a situation or not.  I also tend to forget that my mouth should not be connected to my brain and that there are times when I should shut my mouth and turn off the part of my brain that lets it spout off.  I try to use the excuse that I'm just stating the truth, often forgetting that sometimes the truth really doesn't matter.  That sometimes what I consider the solid honest truth is just my opinion and other peoples opinion matter too.  I try to justify some of the things I say with the fact that I am just protecting someone I love and if that means hurting someone else well so be it.  For an over 4.0 student through all my schooling, I can sure miss out on the common sense portion of my brain at times.

I get many compliments from people in my life about how nice I am.  Compliments about how well I carry myself in life.  How well I have done for myself.  How successful I am.  How caring and giving I am of myself to others.  My normal answer to them is "thank you, I appreciate your kind words but I am a work of God and I am sure he is not yet finished with me."  I would like to think I was born with all the fine qualities I am gifted with, or that I was raised by parents who instilled the very best in me.  Neither of which is true.  The cold hard truth about it is that I have always wanted my family to be proud of me.  Most all of my family is gone, albeit for one brother, and it is important for me to stay on the best path I can so one day I can hear each of them tell me "I am so proud of you".  It grounds me really that the family members already in Heaven cannot say those words to me face to face.  It keeps me on the straight and narrow, never crossing the line.

The line.  I never cross that line but I sure do walk it like a tight rope.  There is a very special person to me in my life that I teeter with while keeping my toes on the right side of the line.  This individual entered my life when I needed her the most, before I even knew that one day I would need her with me on my journey.  I have never thought about her never being a part of my Misfit family life.  I have never imagined what life without her in it would be like because I have always expected her to stay in it.  That is until recently when I actually crossed the line of respecting her for who she is and accepting her for who she isn't. 

From the very bottom of my very deep heart I wish my old soul would have stepped all over my brain before it leaked a conversation out of my mouth that I will never be able to take back.  I would like to eat my words, which some would say is 'swallowing your pride', to let her know that I was wrong.  As right as I tried to convince you I was, I was not.  I was as wrong as the day gets long and my apology to you is sincere.  It's not an empty apology because my dad told me to 'fix this'.  It's not an apology to ask you to not exit out of my life.  It is an apology that I owe you, not because either one of us was right, or wrong for that matter.  It is an apology because of the lack of respect I displayed to you, not just in our last conversation, but for all the times I failed to realize you would never hurt me.  That you have always been there.  That you have always forgiven me.  That you never found fault with me, never harped on the times I made errors in my judgment.  Your support in my life has never swayed, you have always found ways to help me be better, without hurting me in anyway.

I love you so much for what you have brought not just to my life, but to the lives of those I love, both alive and dead.  I love you for never leaving me, or us.  I love you because you are someone who continues to give second, third and fourth chances.  I love you because you accept who I am and who I would like to be, even though you know I am young and foolish.  I love you.  And when I broke your heart with my cruel words, I broke my heart as well.  Thank you for the times you stood back and let me offer you my opinion, even when I never gave you a chance to give me yours. 

I don't often feel broken when someone who I love is still on earth with me, but the last 24 hours I have realized when I shattered your heart, I shattered mine.  I do not promise you I am done growing, or done making mistakes, but I will promise you this.  From now until forever I will remember that my old soul does not give me the right to criticize who anyone else is.  You are perfect in my eyes and when I teeter on that line, or cross that line, it is not a test of you staying or leaving my life.  It is my issue and I will work on facing that issue so I do not ever put our friendship on this line again.  I don't know if you will forgive me for my behavior.  I would like you to, but I will not ask you to.  I do know that I will have a hard time forgiving myself for approaching you with my brain when all I really needed to do was approach you with my heart.

When I count my blessings in life, you are in them.  You have brought so much to my life, new friends, new family, new joys and hope and faith in all things good.  The times I feel weak, I know you are part of the strength that helps me get back on track. 

God isn't done with me yet, I don't know if He ever will be, but I hope you stick around to see it.