When my young friend was buried, this past Saturday, I wanted to beat the holy hell out of life and ask ‘Why, couldn’t you have given her some of my life so she could have longer to live her life!?” I look at my old 53 year old self. I think about her young self. I want to tell God she could have used more life. She may have done better with some of mine.
I can’t give her any of my life. So, I am doing my best, to give some of my life, here, now, to as many as I can. Have tried to, before she died. Have tried, for many, many years to be of use to somebody, many somebodies.
I cry. Even, now. Right now, in fact. Wishing, she had more life. Wishing, I could DO more, with mine. Wishing, I could help more folks dig their way from beneath grief, hard days and who gives a damn.
I want to crawl back beneath my covers of comfort, to find comfort. Comfort, won’t come. Not, really. My heart, grieves. Grieves, for all who have had a lost. Greives, for those who feel lost. Greives, for all who have lost hope. I wish I could give them more:
More, joy.
More, peace.
More, love.
More, hope.
More, light.
More, life.
More, of all that can/will:
Help.
Heal.
Restore.
I can’t do any of those things. I can, perhaps, perchance, shine a light, be a light, for someone, for somebody. So they might know that things truly WILL be okay. Maybe, MY voice, my light, my life, can, even but for a moment, let someone know they be loved. And, in the knowing, maybe, perhaps, perchance, they will have given themselves more of their lives. Living, instead of surviving. Loving, instead of being afraid to love. Receiving, instead of being terrified of receiving.
Ah, I hope.
I, hope.
Maybe, if more of us, gave a bit more, of ourselves, to another, to others. Maybe, just maybe, we can all make our way from beneath mountains of this or that. And, maybe, just maybe, we can find some joy in the digging, in the caring, for one another.
I keep digging up the roots, of my TRY, hoping to see some fruit, some growth, some SOMETHING! Perhaps, maybe, I should stop digging up my TRY and let God and Life do what They will? Sounds like a plan.
In the meantime, beloveds, give someone a bit of your life. Now, whilst they are here. Whilst YOU are here. Who knows what your giving will do or will mean? At the very least, you will have removed some hard. Even, if just a little. Ever little bit helps.
giving you a bit of me,
Cassandra
#YourLifeMattersToMe
- THE HAND FROM HEAVEN ✋🏾☁️🧻🤣
- COME SIT AT MY TABLE 🪑❤️🩹
- BELOVEDS, YOU CAN HAVE MY FLOWERS. I DON’T NEED THEM ANYMORE.
- Forgive them, Cassandra, God said to me
- Still In Love
Why Can't I Be Loud?! 