Another Grave to Tend

This week, I was informed via snail mail from Germany, that an uncle of mine had passed two days before Christmas.  Sadly, he had smoked himself to death.  He and I were not very close.  Outside my handful of visits there, we had little contact.  Through my aunt's annual Christmas cards, I received updates on their lives.  And even though they were well off, it is likely that she would have considered it an unnecessary extravagance to give me the news of his passing via a long distance call.  And computers are not part of her world.  This aunt, now in her mid-seventies, is no stranger to grief.  She was a four-year-old child when her father died. As a young mother, she had buried her baby boy within days of his birth.  Some years later, her mother passed.  Then, nearly twelve years ago, she experienced the loss of her only sibling, my mother.  Now, with her only child living a fair distance away, and without any friends to speak of, she will understandably feel very alone. I hope she finds comfort in her religious beliefs, as well as support from her church.  And, as she continues taking her daily stroll to the cemetery across the street, to tend yet another grave, I hope she feels the presence of her God walking with her.

Grave Secret

While awaiting a recent flight home.  Standing in line at airport security, after snaking back and forth between the numerous banded posts.  Noticing three men wind their way towards me.  Two in their late eighties, along with one of middle age.  Overhearing snippets of their conversation, as they pass by.  Learning two are father and son. Gleaning all three to be churchgoers.  The younger one mentioning how wonderful it is that he lives so close to his place of worship.  They then moving away from me, along the length of the line, only to return again. This time, in a grave voice, one of the older men revealing, "I kept it a secret until he died."  Arriving at the front of the line, I get waved up to place personal items on the conveyor belt.  Leaving the men behind, my mind does somersaults.  Who was it?  What was their relationship?  Was it church related?  Why did he feel it needed to be kept secret?  Were there unintended consequences?  What price did he pay?  I will never know the circumstances of this particular situation. My heart hoping he is at peace with it now.

Spiritual Smorgasbord

Reflecting on various spiritual concepts and activities my children were exposed to.  A smorgasbord of experiences.  As infants, each one being celebrated with a personal Dedication ceremony facilitated by the Unitarian church.  A few years later, all singing in the local United church choir.  During that same period, participating in a sacred event at a nearby Buddhist temple.  Receiving Dao, involving the awakening of ones third eye.  Then as a young teen, each daughter experiencing a unique celebration marking her transition from girl to woman. Throughout the years, all three spending cherished time with their Oma, a practising Catholic.  Diverse experiences amassed from numerous sources.  All stimulating their spiritual awareness.