Does my life matter?
I sat in the last row. There before me, before all of us was a large cross laying claim to the front center of the humble space. The speakers came, one at a time, to stand behind the pulpit as we listened to their stories. It was a light affair, if you could consider a funeral to be so, but the spoken words about a man who was cherished held weight. He was honored and respected. Heads nodded in agreement at the truths being shared, and somehow the occasion of a life gone quietly from the earth did not hurt in the most terrible way. It was a celebration of life lived well.
Last night I had a dream. The details have gone fuzzy now, but I still remember the emotions that stirred me awake. He was gone. My son's life taken from my own, and I would never hold the warmth of him again. It was final. Permanent. I was left touching the ache of my helpless sorrow, my hands erasing tears that would never cease to fall. I was broken to pieces and spilled out on the floor. Even i…
Last night I had a dream. The details have gone fuzzy now, but I still remember the emotions that stirred me awake. He was gone. My son's life taken from my own, and I would never hold the warmth of him again. It was final. Permanent. I was left touching the ache of my helpless sorrow, my hands erasing tears that would never cease to fall. I was broken to pieces and spilled out on the floor. Even i…