Cycles

Yesterday Jamie's grandfather passed away. He was a sweet, thoughtful, soft-spoken and intelligent man, nimble and deft with his hands and mind into his eighties. Seeing him look at little Sam and Sam back at him the other weekend, Sam motionless in my arms as he took in the great man before him, was a special moment now stained in my memory. Happiness that they were able to see each other one more time, peace allowed to enter and fill the hospital room despite the beeping machines and sterile smell. The power of the cycle of life and death so present, the birth into this world with delight in all that is new and fresh and the departure from the world with delight in all that has occurred and the richness of having lived a good life . The flexibility of little bodies bending in yogic-like postures juxtaposed to the feebleness of a chest that has risen and fallen a million times over. How scary it must be to be so innocent and small in this vastness and how frightening it must be to leave this earth, knowing that you will no longer see familiar faces, do routine things, be a human being anymore. Frank made Sam a toy chest that is decorated with animals from this region: the mighty moose, the elegant elk, the delicate deer. Our little guy will know his great grandfather through this work of art, and we will all treasure it as the years go along, filling it with toys.

Live life to the fullest. Everyday. Be honest and truthful and hardworking. Give love to those that you love as well as to those who you don't know. Cherish each moment.