As I grow older, I am continuing to benefit from the life lessons along the way, and my list is growing! Here is my Life Lesson number 58.
In the course of the past two weeks, I have attended three funerals and I refuse to continue fearing death. I made that decision on a Sunday afternoon as I listened to a young man express his adoration for his recently deceased father in a voice that shook with the deep, eternal love of a grieving and broken son. The tribute was abundant with the energy of life; life that refuses to depend upon the beating of a heart. Life that is more than blood, bone and tissue. Life that will not and cannot be still. The music that is life continues, for death is not the final dance.
I walked from the gently lit chapel into the arms of the sun, unable to speak. As funeral guests, we were reminded of the sting of our own losses; our mothers, fathers, children, spouses, sisters, brothers, friends and even foes! When we face that time to say good-bye, many of us are regretful, miserable, vulnerable and lost. Friends and relatives surround us with food, flowers, cards, and gifts of money. We are told that it was probably for the best and our loved one is much better off; no more suffering! But, we are not convinced and we are not easily pacified. We are devastated, for we will never see our beloved again; at least not in this realm.
On this day, however, I realized that the arms of death are powerless in the grand scheme of things, for love has no rival. When we take that last breath, we will be remembered for our kindness. People will not care about the massive house or the meticulously polished vehicles in our garage. Tales will be told of our good deeds, not our bank accounts. We are memorialized for our smiles, not our silk shirts, designer handbags, diamond rings or glamorous shoes. We are so much more than this.
Our legacy lives on; whether it is in the eyes of our children, cherished photographs, endearing anecdotes, or the words we speak and write. We do not exit with the finality of an elaborate, etched stone; a rugged recording of our birth and death. The body is fragile but the soul and the spirit will not be hushed.
I hope to be a contented elderly lady one day; pinkish hued hair (that is what happens to redheads, you know) sound mind and sense of humor. I will not seek death but I hope I come to terms with its inevitability. I want my name to be spoken in a sea of smiles, long after the vessel that is my body decides it is time to rest.
Belinda Wilcox Ouellette lives Connor TWP with her husband Dale and their Goldendoodle Barney. They are currently working on building a home in Caribou. You may contact Belinda online at: dbwouellette@ maine.rr.com.
