Show me peace. Not the zen, look at me I’m a Buddhist Monk kind. But the letting go kind. The kind of peace that lets you breathe without it hurting. The kind of peace that let’s you cry without fear that the dam will break and all the pieces will wash away, leaving you unable to stop the flow. The kind of peace that come’s from the strength of those who hands and hearts stand inside your circle.
Show me wisdom. Wisdom to make every minute count. Wanting to make each minute stretch long and heavy with a touch, a memory, a laugh. Wisdom to stop counting the minutes.
Show me words. What do you say to sickness.To the person who raised you up; who help shape the very core of you; whose footprints cut a path for you before you found your feet. What do you say to give comfort. Do you say anything? How can you say anything when every sentence feels like goodbye.
These days prayer is ever present. A constant whisper. We are all whispering silently, my Mom, my brother, my family… we whisper over and over “Please God…”
I ask for prayers. For my Dad. For my Mom. For our family. And for those of you who are walking this journey with your dads, moms, husbands, wives or someone you love… I send up prayers for you… a million prayers of love and light to line the horizon from here to heaven.