Melinda Ann Lyons

Anne, we are so sorry to learn of your mom´s untimely death. Most every time a friend dies, I try to reread the following poem from Henry Van Dyke. It makes me feel just a tiny bit better. I share it with now with all of us.

The Poem
"I am standing upon the seashore.
A ship, at my side, spreads her white sails to the moving 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 where?
Gone from my sight. That is all. She is just as large in mast, 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 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..."

"Do not mourn the loss of the flame, but celebrate how brightly it glowed."

We found these words in your desk drawer a few days after you passed. It felt like you were still caring for us, still gently guiding our hearts even in our grief.

Any time I was hurting, you would always offer your "mama hand," a quiet promise that I wasn´t alone. I will always be grateful that I was able to be at your bedside and offer you my hand as you passed.

I will miss your sweet smile and your sassy, playful competitiveness. I will miss the way you called out to cats like they were old friends and how you said "gluten" so many times a day that we couldn´t help but laugh.

Mama, my heart is shattered. We lost you way too soon and way too tragically. And yet, even in the midst of this grief, I am in awe of the boundless love you gave and the love that now surrounds us because of you.

I promise to carry forward your thoughtfulness, your curiosity, and your light. Your spirit will live in me, always. I love you Mom.

Love,
Your Youngest