Donations Be Given In Honor Of My Mother

Dear Pgaska, I am so very sorry about your Mother, please accept my sincerest sympathies.

From a book of blessings called “Benedictus” by John O’Donohue – Irish Poet & Philosopher
When you lose someone you love,
Your life becomes strange,
The ground beneath you becomes fragile,
Your thoughts make your eyes unsure;
And some dead echo drags your voice down
Where words have no confidence
Your heart has grown heavy with loss.
And though this loss has wounded others too,
No one knows what has been taken from you
When the silence of absence deepens.
There are days when you wake up happy;
Again inside the fullness of life,
Until the moment breaks
And you are thrown back
Onto the black tide of loss.
Days when you have your heart back,
You are able to function well
Until in the middle of work or encounter,
Suddenly with no warning,
You are ambushed by grief.
More than you, it knows its way
And will find the right time
To pull and pull the rope of grief
Until that coiled hill of tears
Has reduced to its last drop.
Gradually, you will learn acquaintance
With the invisible form of your departed;
And when the work of grief is done,
The wound of loss will heal
And you will have learned
And be able to enter the hearth
In your soul where your loved one
Has awaited your return
All the time.