A model for tribute, prayer and process

     

I attended a funeral recently that was introduced with a tribute written by one of the daughters of a man who was 93. He had recently suffered a major stroke.  She was inspired to write this as she sat with him one night. With her permission I share part of it.

I never saw my father dying

Instead I saw a family tirelessly

caring for a father they adored.

I never saw my father dying

Instead I saw respect and admiration

from friends whose lives he enriched.

. . . I never saw my father dying

Instead I saw Love.

Such a beautiful tribute! I have reflected on it often.  I love the content and the format resonated with me. It is a beautiful way to live with difficult situations, to process encounters of significance,  and to inspire prayer.  With  gratitude and humility, I offer a few  examples.

Connecting with the news

I do not see the pile of debris in the Florida building collapse.

Instead I see lives lost and dreams shattered.

I do not see the pile of debris in the Florida building collapse.

Instead I see the dedication and jeopardy of first responders and  generous citizens.

I do not see the pile of debris in the Florida building collapse.

Instead I see a mayor who cares and a country holding its breath.  . . .

Perhaps a remedy for negative judgement

I never saw her outburst of anger.

Instead I saw a frustrated, overworked, unsupported woman. 

I never saw her outburst of anger.

Instead I saw a woman doing her best to love her children.  . . .. .

Grateful for our natural world.

I do not see the brown ends of tree branches.

Instead I see Nature producing new life for those pesky little cicadas .

I do not see the brown ends of tree branches.

Instead I see relief from noise and freedom from discarded body parts.  . . .

May you likewise be inspired.

                Sr. Mary Rabe, OSB

Death, Separation, Process, New Life

       On a recent sunny afternoon I took a leisurely walk to our cemetery. There I found the recently cut down remains of some very old, tall, ash trees infected and killed by the emerald ash borer.The huge sections of the tree trunks were waiting to be hauled from the cemetery hillside. I pondered the sight of the Sisters’ graves with the large sections of trees scattered among them. The life circles in each immense piece of tree trunk seemed to epitomize the circles of gravestones on the hill. 

       The sight spoke to me of death and separation as well as process and new life.  I recalled memories of these departed Sisters and prayed for and to them. I also wondered about the future of those immense trunks. Might their wood be made into something beautiful or useful or even unique one day? Upon leaving the cemetery, I couldn’t help wishing that it would be so. 

                              Sr. Martha Walther, OSB