It’s Sunday, Mother’s Day and my family is headed up the road to my mom and dad’s hometown of McMinnville. We are going to see the headstone placed on my father’s grave to show us where his remains, remain.
I like cemeteries. I find great comfort walking among those who have been before. It’s as though this segment, this part of their journey is finished and has been decided. The struggles of life, for these, are over. I remember many of the people buried in my family’s plot. For those I didn’t know, I can wonder what similarities we have or had; I’m not sure how you word that.
What I’m starting to see in my life is how connected life and death really are and how good that is. I’m seeing that life is not one dimensional, not even close. I bet if I asked those who’ve already been this path what they’ve learned they’d tell me of the connection between here and there. I think they’d explain why rest and peace are such a vital part of our existence and how negligent we are when it comes to implementing the “rest theory” into our lives.

We are taught in our culture to separate things in our lives and yet, I find everything to be so connected. It’s like a giant string is woven into the fabric of this world and the next.
I want to slow down so I don’t miss a thing.
I want to be fully present, right here, right now.
When I’m with people, my family and my work, I want to remember that so much more is going on than meets the eye.