Life is a series if journeys…not all of them on the map…
A myriad of adventures…that some times overlap.
We look at these overlapping journeys as a gift we’ve been bestowed
and we endeavor to enjoy the ride…no matter how bumpy the road.
Take, for instance, the journey of expectant parents…
It’s begun in euphoria as they anticipate their new arrival…
but if it is death not birth that greets them…
It becomes a journey of survival.
They wonder how this happened…how did this tragedy come about?
So many questions flood their minds…they fight hard…
but they can’t keep them out?
Why did our baby’s heart stop beating? Will our broken hearts ever mend?
Why did this have to happen to us? Will our sadness ever end?
How do we overcome our sorrow? For it’s difficult to remember when…
we were ever filled with happiness…and will we ever be happy again?
The first time it rains they look out the window…they weep and they hurt and they moan…
as they wonder if their baby’s staying dry…and they hate that she’s all alone.
Friends and family try to be helpful…they remind them they have their whole life ahead…
but they don’t understand how hard it is to go on living…when a part of you is dead.
So secretly they come up with a plan…a plan that has beauty and solace and art.
They know their baby can’t grow in this world…so you allow him to grow in their heart.
And they begin to wonder what she’d look as she grows up…how tall…how much would she weigh.
What would he be doing with his life…if he were alive today?
And they keep her memory alive…although she is now but a distant star….
So they will recognize him and he them…once they have, too, have crossed the bar…
Yes life is filled with a series of journeys…over hills and valleys and knolls…
Burt sometimes the most beautiful journeys in life…are the journey within our own souls.
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