Posts Tagged ‘death’

Bound For Glory

My friend’s dad is dying.

As I sit here with a million things to do I can’t think of anything else but her and what she’s going through.  I’ve been texting with her throughout the afternoon, telling her I can come sit with her, asking what I can do for her, and she stays strong saying everything is okay.  I know it’s not okay.  I know she’s not okay.  I want to do something to help, but I’m helpless.

I don’t want to intrude on this very intimate time, but there’s got to be something, something I can do.

For now I’ll share this song written and performed by Warren Zevon while he was dying.  The lyrics are below.

Mary Ann, my thoughts are with you and your family more than you’ll ever know.  I’m here for you.

“My Ride’s Here”

I was staying at the Marriott
With Jesus and John Wayne
I was waiting for a chariot
They were waiting for a train
The sky was full of carrion
“I’ll take the mazuma”
Said Jesus to Marion
“That’s the 3:10 to Yuma
My ride’s here…”The Houston sky was changeless
We galloped through bluebonnets
I was wrestling with an angel
You were working on a sonnet
You said, “I believe the seraphim
Will gather up my pinto
And carry us away, Jim
Across the San Jacinto
My ride’s here…”Shelley and Keats were out in the street
And even Lord Byron was leaving for Greece
While back at the Hilton, last but not least
Milton was holding his sides
Saying, “You bravos had better be
ready to fight
Or we’ll never get out of East Texas tonight
The trail is long and the river is wide
And my ride’s here”

I was staying at the Westin
I was playing to a draw
When in walked Charlton Heston
With the Tablets of the Law
He said, “It’s still the Greatest Story”
I said, “Man, I’d like to stay
But I’m bound for glory
I’m on my way
My ride’s here…”

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A Vigil

Husby and I had a very eventful weekend.

We held a vigil for Husby’s dad, who has been declining steadily for the past six months.

Such a hard road he had to travel this past winter.  It would have been hard for a sturdy person like me, much less a fragile little man of eighty-six years.

He took it like a trooper though.

The toll of age affects not only the aged. A life lived affects not only the one who lived it.

My life has been permanently affected by the experiences Husby and I had throughout the vigil.  We met wonderful people.  We learned new philosophies.  We saw how strong and complex the human body is.  We also saw how frail it is compared to the enormity of the soul inhabiting it.

We are bigger than our lives here.  The vigil proved that to me.

To be part of such a significant event is nothing short of astounding.  Death is rebirth, and I believe that completely now.  It was an arduous road for Husby’s dad, but we were so happy when he reached the glorious destination.  I don’t know what that destination is, but I do know the end of life as we know it is not the end of existence.  I don’t just believe, I know.

Husby and I are so happy for his dad.  He’ll be missed, but never far away.

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