antiochian
09-29-2008, 10:47 AM
I wish to share some thoughts on remembering those we love who are no longer with us in body. Everyone, of course, has different ways of grieving and remembering, every spiritual tradition a little bit different take on the matter.
One of the great practices from my Eastern Orthodox tradition which has comforted me more than I can say is that of praying for the dead. Author and priest Fr. Anthony Coniaris wrote something to the effect that we know not how those prayers benefit those in the next world, but we know that continuing to pray for them emotionally and spiritually benefits us.
Of course, this idea of remembering is nothing new to the lgbt community. We remember the fallen every time we participate in an AIDS walk, as I did last weekend. Soon we will remember the 10th anniversary of Matthew Shepard's tragic death, and we grieve for the others who have died from hate in recent years and throughout history.
Tomorrow is a day of remembrance for me personally. On that day five yeras ago, I lost one of my best friends, my grandmother. Her name was Susie. Yes, I still pray for her (I welcome your prayers for her as well), I still cry for her now and then, and I hope to see her in the future life.
Let me close by sharing something I wrote in her memory a couple weeks ago. God bless you all.
-----
I Thought of You Today
Has it been that long since I said goodbye,
the day you died?
I remember you, frail, white-haired, wrinkled,
struggling to breathe, fighting your last fight,
loved ones at your bedside on your final night,
then your breathing stopped and you took to flight.
I missed you so much, Grandma, my soul sorrow glazed.
I thought of you, five years later, and cried today.
I remember you, in the hospital after the stroke,
a piece of you died then, you'd never walk again.
The one I knew and loved would continue to fade away
into life's mysterious dusk, the sojourn's end.
Life's worries you exchanged for the quiet of the tomb.
We returned you to sleep in the earth's tranquil womb.
I remember you, covering my small body with your
fur coat as I lay down on the couch, listening to your tales,
taking trips in your big, green car to the bakery and
the grocery store in search of various items on sale.
Beloved one, precious soul, fret no more, you're free!
Forever joy be yours. Eternal be your memory.
I have not fogotten you, Grandma, and I never will.
I hope you found the peace you were on earth denied--
no longer old and broken, but radiant and luminous as a star.
It's five years later. I thought of you today and cried.
One of the great practices from my Eastern Orthodox tradition which has comforted me more than I can say is that of praying for the dead. Author and priest Fr. Anthony Coniaris wrote something to the effect that we know not how those prayers benefit those in the next world, but we know that continuing to pray for them emotionally and spiritually benefits us.
Of course, this idea of remembering is nothing new to the lgbt community. We remember the fallen every time we participate in an AIDS walk, as I did last weekend. Soon we will remember the 10th anniversary of Matthew Shepard's tragic death, and we grieve for the others who have died from hate in recent years and throughout history.
Tomorrow is a day of remembrance for me personally. On that day five yeras ago, I lost one of my best friends, my grandmother. Her name was Susie. Yes, I still pray for her (I welcome your prayers for her as well), I still cry for her now and then, and I hope to see her in the future life.
Let me close by sharing something I wrote in her memory a couple weeks ago. God bless you all.
-----
I Thought of You Today
Has it been that long since I said goodbye,
the day you died?
I remember you, frail, white-haired, wrinkled,
struggling to breathe, fighting your last fight,
loved ones at your bedside on your final night,
then your breathing stopped and you took to flight.
I missed you so much, Grandma, my soul sorrow glazed.
I thought of you, five years later, and cried today.
I remember you, in the hospital after the stroke,
a piece of you died then, you'd never walk again.
The one I knew and loved would continue to fade away
into life's mysterious dusk, the sojourn's end.
Life's worries you exchanged for the quiet of the tomb.
We returned you to sleep in the earth's tranquil womb.
I remember you, covering my small body with your
fur coat as I lay down on the couch, listening to your tales,
taking trips in your big, green car to the bakery and
the grocery store in search of various items on sale.
Beloved one, precious soul, fret no more, you're free!
Forever joy be yours. Eternal be your memory.
I have not fogotten you, Grandma, and I never will.
I hope you found the peace you were on earth denied--
no longer old and broken, but radiant and luminous as a star.
It's five years later. I thought of you today and cried.