Saturday, April 30, 2011

Until We Hug Again!

Siblings are your first friends if you are lucky. Reenie was my first friend.

She told me, “it was OK to have imaginary friends, just don't bring them to Kindergarten."

We shared a bedroom and a bed in those early days and she never took all the covers.

Also, we would ride for hours on our imaginary magic carpet (the bedspread) high above all those people and things we imagined could get at us. We called them sharks! Who Knew!?

When she accidentally locked herself in the bedroom after one of our childhood spats, I slid pretzels under the door so that she wouldn't starve in those two hours before Dad came home to fix the door knob.

We were good friends then and always and forever.

In our family we rarely say goodbye, we say see you later!

When Debbie, Pete and I left her hospital room on the last day we would all be together, she did not say see you later or goodbye, she said “Sleep Tight”

We try not to mourn a death either, as we would rather celebrate the life that went before.

It is not about the dying; but Noreen had astonishing grace when faced with it’s inevitability.

It is about the living, which she did to the very best of her ability in all things!

She was a Mom, a wife, a home maker.

She was a friend, a volunteer, a hard worker, a valued employee and a respected public representative. She was an artist and a poet, she was our Sister.

She also loved this poem.

I am sure that many of you have heard this before.

The author is Mary Frye, and we think she must have had a little American Indian blood, as we do. When an Indian dies they believe that their soul becomes a part of all nature that encompasses our lives. Their after life is in the wind, rain, fire and earth. In the bear, the deer, the eagle and the rabbit.

We think that This Poem is representative of how Reenie would want us to feel today.

It is Called: Do Not Stand at My Grave and Weep

When I am long gone from your side,
And all your tears have then been dried ...
Do not stand at my grave and weep,
I am not there, I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow;
I am the diamond glints on snow;
I am the sunlight on ripened grain;
I am the gentle autumn's rain.
When you awaken in the morning hush,
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft star that shines at night.
And when you stroll in the evening hours,
And smell the aroma of beautiful flowers;
There'll be no need to sob and cry ...
I am not there, I did not die!

Until we all hug again our friend, our sweet sister, you are forever in our hearts.