The gathering at the funeral home was small. Only immediate family and a few of their friends standing by in loving support. When Lou died, there was more fan-fare; the Knights of Columbus came in full regalia to pay tribute to one of their own and to extend respectful condolences to Mary who, taking moments from her deep sorrow, shook each member's hand with quiet grace and thanked them for coming.
But being her turn, it's probably best that there was only the handful of people, who meant the most, gathered quietly to bid farewell. She would have liked it better that way. She wasn't much for being at the center of things.
I want to be more like Mary- With the group so small, I had the opportunity to talk to many of them and hear their select memories. A theme emerged. Mary was one of those rare individuals who brought peace and well-being with each encounter she had. One of those people who make you feel more peaceful, happy, or calm simply by sitting with them.
Aunt Rose Raymond was one, too. Somehow, you just felt better sitting in her kitchen. Sometimes she'd sit at the table and talk with you; other times you'd chatter away while she prepared dinner moving smoothly with a good cook's internal rhythm from stove to sink to pantry and back again. You could tell she heard everything you said...
Even with her back turned to you, you felt her heart and attention facing you. Aunt Rose listened a lot more than she talked. I believe that's the secret- no matter the topic, she made you feel listened to; attended to; important. As if she had all the time in the world, she listened while you talked. We, all, so desperately want to feel that.
Mary was the same sort. I heard words, 'loving,' and 'kind,' and 'joyful'. 'Patient,' and 'caring,' were also repeated. Gabe, her grand-daughter sighed, "She loved us and she loved life. You knew you were important and special to her. You just felt better being around her." What a glowing tribute to an irreplaceable life well-lived.
I want to be more like Mary.
Namaste' Till Next Time,
Holly
But being her turn, it's probably best that there was only the handful of people, who meant the most, gathered quietly to bid farewell. She would have liked it better that way. She wasn't much for being at the center of things.
I want to be more like Mary- With the group so small, I had the opportunity to talk to many of them and hear their select memories. A theme emerged. Mary was one of those rare individuals who brought peace and well-being with each encounter she had. One of those people who make you feel more peaceful, happy, or calm simply by sitting with them.
Aunt Rose Raymond was one, too. Somehow, you just felt better sitting in her kitchen. Sometimes she'd sit at the table and talk with you; other times you'd chatter away while she prepared dinner moving smoothly with a good cook's internal rhythm from stove to sink to pantry and back again. You could tell she heard everything you said...
Even with her back turned to you, you felt her heart and attention facing you. Aunt Rose listened a lot more than she talked. I believe that's the secret- no matter the topic, she made you feel listened to; attended to; important. As if she had all the time in the world, she listened while you talked. We, all, so desperately want to feel that.
Mary was the same sort. I heard words, 'loving,' and 'kind,' and 'joyful'. 'Patient,' and 'caring,' were also repeated. Gabe, her grand-daughter sighed, "She loved us and she loved life. You knew you were important and special to her. You just felt better being around her." What a glowing tribute to an irreplaceable life well-lived.
I want to be more like Mary.
Namaste' Till Next Time,
Holly
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