I'll See You Angela

I'll See You Again - Westlife

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P7IbQyG9PL4

Openness

I'm being an open book. Partly because I was a hermit for years (years ago though) and partly for the healing in this journey and partly for you...whoever reads these things that maybe they may evoke something of help of comfort or even helping someone to face their own grief. I am so devastated and I cannot let this suffocate me so I reach out. I share. I post at weird times of the night and the day. Some may think, "Does she ever sleep?" Well not much honestly. It is a type of journal here for me for now, for this season of pain. I am learning. I am crying. I am taking in ALL you share with me dear beautiful people. Nothing goes unnoticed and God gave me the strength to tell you that just NOW.

One minute at a time

One minute at a time I breathe
One minute at a time I ask for help
One minute at a time I sleep
One minute at a time I think

Everything is a mountain this day and yesterday
and the day before that

I remember yesterday's but right now
Tomorrows look so dim

I'd cling
But my arms are too tired to


I'd walk
But I am too weak

Waves

Waves--

Angela pain washes over me

I succumb to it and cry

I get a breath and float for a while

Another wave comes and washes me down

Light is all around me

God's face I can almost see

Pain pours off me like flowing water over a mountain

Waves of emotion and memories

Waves of what if's

waves that are almost drowning me

God is in this darkness with me

He promises to never leave

flickers of light come and go

Waves of my motherhood

Of my little girl

Of my premature baby

Waves of my lonely teenager

Of my adult not ready

Of my daughter seeking

Of the time I did not spend

Of the time I missed this last year

This last 6 months

This last three months

This January

Who is this young woman

I have forgotten her pure smile

and pure joy

I saw in her in younger years

Another ocean wave comes

I have no control over this pain

I allow myself to feel

It hurts too much to not feel

Swallowing some of the water

As the tears flow over my face

God keeps me from drowning in sorrow

As He floats gently beside me

A strong force

Where would I be if I did not have Him here?

How could I even speak with my daughter?

Where would we be? 

I do not choose to think of how awful that would be.

Sandy~

Sunshine

Today there is daylight but no sunshine

I am missing sun


That is all I have to say right now.


I MISS  S U N

I posted this February 2, 2013 on Face Book

I am in shock. I just discovered this and am sitting here thinking, what? I posted this during the eve of spending time with Angela, for that evening. That was the last time I saw her beautiful face. My angel.

How I Made Peace With Death  

Have you ever been in a room with someone who has died?" I asked. "I mean, have you ever been with someone's body?"

The minister, who was significantly older than I was at the time, shook his head. "Then maybe before the family gets here, you ought to go in and be with her yourself, just so you can get through your own reaction. You might be more helpful to the family that way."

I was working as a chaplain at a hospital in Cincinnati. It was Christmas. I was in rabbinical school, and each year I would volunteer to take that particular overnight shift so the Christian clergy could be home for their holiday.

This time, however, a woman died on Christmas Eve. Her pastor had come to the hospital to be with the family and say goodbye to his parishioner. But as I feared, he usually dealt with bodies that were cremated or embalmed and dressed up. He hadn't been around the newly dead, especially someone he knew. 

He went into the room. When he came back out, he was a bit shaken, but I could see he was OK. The family arrived, and he put his arms around them. I realize talking about bodies may seem morbid and bizarre, but clergy often have a strange relationship with death. We are around it frequently. Like funeral home directors, doctors, and nurses, we see people for who they are in all their mortality. It inculcates a feeling of humility and awe. And yes, it is still unnerving.

As a rabbi, I have buried many people. I have buried old people, young people and -- thankfully very rarely -- children. I was once even part of a small Michigan town's Jewish burial society called a Hevra Kadisha, where I washed a congregant and dressed him in shrouds. In Judaism, bodies are not traditionally cremated or embalmed. The body is left in its natural state and buried in an all-wood coffin so there will be no barrier to returning to the earth.

One day that will be me, I sometimes think.

Some of the most interesting people I have met are dead. I sit with families, listen to stories, usually with both laughter and tears, and am tasked with writing eulogies. The tales are fascinating. There is often sadness and anger, especially if the death was tragic, but there is usually also gratitude. Being close to death can also be strangely energizing. It makes you not want to waste time.

If I am fortunate enough to be with someone as he or she approaches death, I offer a prayer called the Sh'ma. In Judaism, people strive to say this central sentence of our faith: "Hear Israel, the Eternal is our God, the Eternal is One" (Deuteronomy 6:5). If they cannot say it, I often say it for them with the family. While Judaism has no one theology of what happens to us after we die, monotheism ultimately affirms the unity of all. We are born from infinity, live our unique journeys, and return to infinity. We rejoin the Oneness, which we never really left.

I remember very specifically the moment I made peace with death. I am embarrassed to say I don't remember the man's name. There have been just too many funerals since then. Again, it happened during rabbinical school. I was called out of the fourth grade Hebrew class I was teaching by a professor of mine at Hebrew Union College and told to go visit a man in the hospital who was dying. This was a man whose end was long, painful and unjust. He was a war veteran and deserved better. My teacher asked me to go and say the Sh'ma with him and his family in a final act of faith before he died, despite all he had been through.

Near panic, I climbed into my car. Who was I to stand by this person's bedside? Why was my teacher picking on me?

I drove to the hospital, and I was shocked that they let me in and led me right to the man's room even though I did not feel I belonged there at all. His family was not there. I stood by this man's bedside, I took his hand, I stroked his knuckles with my thumb, I recited the Sh'ma prayer, and I told him everything would be OK. I do not know what made me say that last part, but I did.

Ever since that night, I have had to believe that whatever room I find myself in, God is in that room with me, and we are all part of God's Oneness. I cannot prove it. I cannot explain it. I just believe it to be true. 
Death is disconcerting, upsetting, humbling and invigorating. It is as natural as it is inevitable. And it can be liberating to name our fears and say, "One day that will be me."

That goes for you, too.

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/rabbi-joseph-meszler/how-i-made-peace-with-death_b_2575722.html?utm_hp_ref=fb&src=sp&comm_ref=false

Shock!!!

Angela Hope Smith 4-20-87 ~ 2-7-13

I can hardly believe it. My precious daughter passed away at 6:40 a.m. at her precious sister's apartment in Boalsburg Pa on February 7th, 2013. I am in shock. I am enraged. I am in such a devastated state. How is this possible????

A dear friend from work shared this song with me. I am in shock. I have listened to this song many many many times and here I am actually living it? Wow. I am blown away. Tonight I am just sensing such a peace from GOD and He is comforting me so deeply. Thank you Melanie Fisher for your sensitivity and kindness. This took my breath away sister. You are special. ♥

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i-hJ87ApWtw&feature=share

Held by Natalie Grant