I recently lost my mom. I’m not going to write about that, because it’s too soon. But, I wanted to share with you a poem that we read at my mom’s service. I found this writing in some papers that she had collected about 20 years ago when my dad passed away. It is attributed to an Anonymous Author.
I loved the imagery in this poem, and I wanted to share it, in case it would help someone else as much as it helped me.
I am standing upon the seashore. A ship at my side spreads her white sails to the morning breeze and starts for the blue ocean. She is an object of beauty and strength. I stand and watch her until at length she hangs like a speck of white cloud just where the sea and sky come to mingle with each other. Then someone at my side says, "There, she is gone." "Gone where?" Gone from my sight. That is all. She is just as large in mast and hull and spar as she was when she left my side, and she is just as able to bear her load of living freight to her destined port. Her diminished size is in me, not in her. And, just at the moment when someone at my side says, "There, she is gone," there are other eyes watching her coming, and there are other voices ready to take up the glad shout, "Here she comes!"