Life and Death Matters | Book
Life and Death Matters
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21.01.2022 Buried or Cremated ? https://memorialglass.com.au
14.01.2022 On the day I die a lot will happen. A lot will change. The world will be busy. On the day I die, all the important appointments I made will be left unattended. ...The many plans I had yet to complete will remain forever undone. The calendar that ruled so many of my days will now be irrelevant to me. All the material things I so chased and guarded and treasured will be left in the hands of others to care for or to discard. The words of my critics which so burdened me will cease to sting or capture anymore. They will be unable to touch me. The arguments I believed I’d won here will not serve me or bring me any satisfaction or solace. All my noisy incoming notifications and texts and calls will go unanswered. Their great urgency will be quieted. My many nagging regrets will all be resigned to the past, where they should have always been anyway. Every superficial worry about my body that I ever labored over; about my waistline or hairline or frown lines, will fade away. My carefully crafted image, the one I worked so hard to shape for others here, will be left to them to complete anyway. The sterling reputation I once struggled so greatly to maintain will be of little concern for me anymore. All the small and large anxieties that stole sleep from me each night will be rendered powerless. The deep and towering mysteries about life and death that so consumed my mind will finally be clarified in a way that they could never be before while I lived. These things will certainly all be true on the day that I die. Yet for as much as will happen on that day, one more thing that will happen. On the day I die, the few people who really know and truly love me will grieve deeply. They will feel a void. They will feel cheated. They will not feel ready. They will feel as though a part of them has died as well. And on that day, more than anything in the world they will want more time with me. I know this from those I love and grieve over. And so knowing this, while I am still alive I’ll try to remember that my time with them is finite and fleeting and so very preciousand I’ll do my best not to waste a second of it. I’ll try not to squander a priceless moment worrying about all the other things that will happen on the day I die, because many of those things are either not my concern or beyond my control. Friends, those other things have an insidious way of keeping you from living even as you live; vying for your attention, competing for your affections. They rob you of the joy of this unrepeatable, uncontainable, ever-evaporating Now with those who love you and want only to share it with you. Don’t miss the chance to dance with them while you can. It’s easy to waste so much daylight in the days before you die. Don’t let your life be stolen every day, by all that you’ve been led to believe matters, because on the day you diethe fact is that much of it simply won’t. Yes, you and I will die one day. But before that day comes: LET US LIVE - John Pavlovitz Via @Al Jefferey See more
11.01.2022 Having a few website issues that will hopefully be rectified shortly. My apologies.Having a few website issues that will hopefully be rectified shortly. My apologies.
09.01.2022 Who would care for your pets?
08.01.2022 The simple things in life.........
07.01.2022 When an old man died in the geriatric ward of a nursing home in an Australian country town, it was believed that he had nothing left of any value. Later, when t...he nurses were going through his meagre possessions, they found this poem. Its quality and content so impressed the staff that copies were made and distributed to every nurse in the hospital. One nurse took her copy to Melbourne .. The old man's sole bequest to posterity has since appeared in the Christmas editions of magazines around the country and appearing in mags for Mental Health. A slide presentation has also been made based on his simple, but eloquent, poem. And this old man, with nothing left to give to the world, is now the author of this 'anonymous' poem winging across the Internet. Cranky Old Man..... What do you see nurses? . . .. . .What do you see? What are you thinking .. . when you're looking at me? A cranky old man, . . . . . .not very wise, Uncertain of habit .. . . . . . . .. with faraway eyes? Who dribbles his food .. . ... . . and makes no reply. When you say in a loud voice . .'I do wish you'd try!' Who seems not to notice . . .the things that you do. And forever is losing . . . . . .. . . A sock or shoe? Who, resisting or not . . . ... lets you do as you will, With bathing and feeding . . . .The long day to fill? Is that what you're thinking?. .Is that what you see? Then open your eyes, nurse .you're not looking at me. I'll tell you who I am . . . . .. As I sit here so still, As I do at your bidding, .. . . . as I eat at your will. I'm a small child of Ten . .with a father and mother, Brothers and sisters .. . . .. . who love one another A young boy of Sixteen . . . .. with wings on his feet Dreaming that soon now . . .. . . a lover he'll meet. A groom soon at Twenty . . . ..my heart gives a leap. Remembering, the vows .. .. .that I promised to keep. At Twenty-Five, now . . . . .I have young of my own. Who need me to guide . . . And a secure happy home. A man of Thirty . .. . . . . My young now grown fast, Bound to each other . . .. With ties that should last. At Forty, my young sons .. .have grown and are gone, But my woman is beside me . . to see I don't mourn. At Fifty, once more, .. ...Babies play 'round my knee, Again, we know children . . . . My loved one and me. Dark days are upon me . . . . My wife is now dead. I look at the future ... . . . . I shudder with dread. For my young are all rearing .. . . young of their own. And I think of the years . . . And the love that I've known. I'm now an old man . . . . . . .. and nature is cruel. It's jest to make old age . . . . . . . look like a fool. The body, it crumbles .. .. . grace and vigour, depart. There is now a stone . . . where I once had a heart. But inside this old carcass . A young man still dwells, And now and again . . . . . my battered heart swells I remember the joys . . . . .. . I remember the pain. And I'm loving and living . . . . . . . life over again. I think of the years, all too few . . .. gone too fast. And accept the stark fact . . . that nothing can last. So open your eyes, people .. . . . .. . . open and see. Not a cranky old man . Look closer . . . . see .. .. . .. . ME!! Remember this poem when you next meet an older person who you might brush aside without looking at the young soul within ... . . . we will all, one day, be there, too! PLEASE SHARE THIS POEM
06.01.2022 It takes real courage.
06.01.2022 I have a favour to ask for anyone that has filled in or used my planner. Is there anything that you would change or add into it? I am looking into my next print run and have a chance to make any relevant changes. Happy for you to private message me if you like. Thankyou in advance.
05.01.2022 Do your loved ones know YOUR wishes? I look back and wish the questions we needed to know were answered before it was too late. It's confronting and very difficult but reality bites - hard!
