I am standing upon the seashore. A ship, at my side, spreads her white sails to the moving 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 from my sight. That is all. She is just as large in mast, 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 says, “There, she is gone,” there are other eyes watching her coming, and other voices ready to take up the glad shout, “Here she comes!”
And that is dying…
Our Care Pastor shared this poem with me today at our church’s anniversary party. I was grateful. I was weeping, but I was grateful. My siblings put my Mom’s ashes in the ground today. What makes my chest hurt the most is thinking that Mom is just gone. This poem helped me a lot today, so I share it with you. Maybe it will help you too. Peace of Christ to you this day.