My apologies for not posting in a little while, I hope that long piece on stress was enough to keep you occupied for a while. I think I owe you a part 2? When I get home tonight I will check. But if it takes a couple of days I wanted to share something with you.
We all lose people who are close to us. It’s probably the hardest thing we will have to endure in this life. The passing of someone we love dearly. Knowing that we will never be able to see them again, talk to them, tell them how important they are to us. And no matter how much we think we are preparing for it, it always comes too soon.
There is small booklet that I have always kept around which has a wonderful little story on the back page, and I thought to share it with you. It’s by Henry Van Dyke.
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 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 other voices ready to take up the glad shout” “Here she comes!”
And that is dying.