Reflecting on a friend’s impending journey to Heaven; Forget You, Pat Robertson

The Trip of a Lifetime
Reflecting on a friend’s impending journey to Heaven

She’s packed her bags and now awaits
the trip of a lifetime.

It is a journey
for which she has long prepared.
Her ticket was prepaid long ago
by a loving (and generous) Friend.

In recent days she’s dreamed about her destination
having read the travel guide
that graphically pictures an awesome place
that is nothing short of “out of this world.”

For now Diana rests in the waiting room.
She listens for a whistle
and the welcomed squeal of steel on steel.
She knows that soon the approaching train
will arrive at the station and slow to a stop.

The conductor will at last appear
and announce in words so soft only she will hear them.
“Heaven…. All aboard.”

Diana (beaming with joy)
will bound up the steps and find her seat.
In the twinkling of an eye she will realize
that she is no longer weary,weak, confused or sick.

Fully alive and completely well,
she will look out the window as the train
pulls out of Redstart Station
and see a crowd of family, friends and loved-ones
waving goodbye.

“Don’t weep for me,” she will call out.
“I’m headed home.”
“I’ll see you soon,” she adds smiling.

But only those with eyes of faith
will be able to read her lips
on the other side of the moving window.
And brushing tears from their eyes,
they will return her smile.

* I wrote this for a friend in Illinois whose beloved wife was nearing the end a courageous battle with brain cancer. Bob had sent an email indicating that the end was near. As I read about Diana’s impending journey to Heaven, the image of the train station came to mind. Amazingly, Diana died in her home on Redstart Road less than an hour after I e-mailed the poem to Bob. Peace to her memory!

The Trip of a Lifetime
Reflecting on a friend’s impending journey to Heaven

She’s packed her bags and now awaits
the trip of a lifetime.

It is a journey
for which she has long prepared.
Her ticket was prepaid long ago
by a loving (and generous) Friend.

In recent days she’s dreamed about her destination
having read the travel guide
that graphically pictures an awesome place
that is nothing short of “out of this world.”

For now Diana rests in the waiting room.
She listens for a whistle
and the welcomed squeal of steel on steel.
She knows that soon the approaching train
will arrive at the station and slow to a stop.

The conductor will at last appear
and announce in words so soft only she will hear them.
“Heaven…. All aboard.”

Diana (beaming with joy)
will bound up the steps and find her seat.
In the twinkling of an eye she will realize
that she is no longer weary,weak, confused or sick.

Fully alive and completely well,
she will look out the window as the train
pulls out of Redstart Station
and see a crowd of family, friends and loved-ones
waving goodbye.

“Don’t weep for me,” she will call out.
“I’m headed home.”
“I’ll see you soon,” she adds smiling.

But only those with eyes of faith
will be able to read her lips
on the other side of the moving window.
And brushing tears from their eyes,
they will return her smile.

• I wrote this for a friend in Illinois whose beloved wife was nearing the end a courageous battle with brain cancer. Bob had sent an email indicating that the end was near. As I read about Diana’s impending journey to Heaven, the image of the train station came to mind. Amazingly, Diana died in her home on Redstart Road less than an hour after I e-mailed the poem to Bob. Peace to her memory!

Forget You, Pat Robertson!
Alzheimer’s Disease is no reason to forget your wedding vows

On that tux and gown day
I said I’d obey
heart-felt vows that I voiced to my wife.
In good times and bad
whether happy or sad,
I pledged her my love all my life.

For better, for worse
including the curse
of Dr. Alzheimer’s disease!
So, Pat, I’m appalled,
disappointed and galled
at your recent disturbing decrees.

Forget what I’ve vowed?
Is that what’s allowed
when memory-loss moves in my home?
Forget you, my friend.
Promised-love never ends
even when illness leaves me alone.

The vows that I made
will not wither or fade
when it’s much more convenient to bail.
I’ve been called to attend
to my spouse to the end
though her memory be caged in some jail.

http://www.nytimes.com/2011/09/17/us/pat-robertson-remarks-on-alzheimers-stir-passions.html