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The Story My Life Tells
Mar. 19th, 2016 09:40 pmWhen we go to a funeral or a memorial service, what do we mourn, besides those who have gone?
We cry at memorial services, even when we have not known the one who died very well, sometimes even if we have not known them at all.
Do we mourn the loss of this one beautiful life, even when we have not known the one who lived it?
Do we mourn for the emptiness left in the lives of others, though we may not know them intimately?
Is it possible, just a little bit, that we mourn something of ourselves that we have lost?
Faced with death, do we see our own mortality, and regret opportunities lost, the choice that was not made, the love that was not sought?
Faced with the mortality of others, do we grasp at our faithless moments, recalling times we could have done a good thing, but did nothing?
Hearing the story of the life of one who has died told by those who have known and loved that person best, we notice the times in their lives where they made good choices, took right turns, lived completely and utterly faithfully.
Yet even they must have taken a moment at a funeral somewhere along the line to think, “I should have done that. I should have been that kind of person.”
They were not perfect in this life, nor shall we be. Not yet.
I wonder, if the person we mourn were standing in the room with us, would they know how many caring hearts their life inspires?
I wonder, do they know that the best of them inspires the best in us?
Certainly, I know that one day, I want my life to inspire others.
I want them cry at my memorial, whether they know me or not; not because funerals are sad, or that my life is so pitiful.
I hope I can live my life from this day forward in such a way that only goodness is inspired by the story my loved ones tell.
We cry at memorial services, even when we have not known the one who died very well, sometimes even if we have not known them at all.
Do we mourn the loss of this one beautiful life, even when we have not known the one who lived it?
Do we mourn for the emptiness left in the lives of others, though we may not know them intimately?
Is it possible, just a little bit, that we mourn something of ourselves that we have lost?
Faced with death, do we see our own mortality, and regret opportunities lost, the choice that was not made, the love that was not sought?
Faced with the mortality of others, do we grasp at our faithless moments, recalling times we could have done a good thing, but did nothing?
Hearing the story of the life of one who has died told by those who have known and loved that person best, we notice the times in their lives where they made good choices, took right turns, lived completely and utterly faithfully.
Yet even they must have taken a moment at a funeral somewhere along the line to think, “I should have done that. I should have been that kind of person.”
They were not perfect in this life, nor shall we be. Not yet.
I wonder, if the person we mourn were standing in the room with us, would they know how many caring hearts their life inspires?
I wonder, do they know that the best of them inspires the best in us?
Certainly, I know that one day, I want my life to inspire others.
I want them cry at my memorial, whether they know me or not; not because funerals are sad, or that my life is so pitiful.
I hope I can live my life from this day forward in such a way that only goodness is inspired by the story my loved ones tell.
