The Empty Chair spoken by Tyrone Siglos for Josh Siglos So strange to hear this spoken at the church service tonight. Beside my bed is an empty chair. Lucy my cat and I were in bed, suddenly something fell from the … Continue reading →
THERE ARE TWO WAYS of remembering. One is to make an excursion from the living present back into the dead past. The old sock remembers how things used to be when you and I were young. The faraway look in his eyes is partly the beer and partly that he’s really far away.
The other way is to summon the dead past back into the living present. The young widow remembers her husband, and he is there beside her.
When Jesus said, “Do this in remembrance of me,” (1 Corinthians 11:24) he was not prescribing a periodic slug of nostalgia.
I pray that each one of us stays awake as we fall. I pray that we choose to go into the abyss willingly and that our fall is cushioned by faith–faith that at the bottom we will be caught and … Continue reading →
Losing a mother is a pain that cannot be described in words. It is impossible to move on from the memory of losing the woman who sacrificed happiness in her own life so that you could have a better one. … Continue reading →
We have just finished our third night of prayer for our dearly beloved, Lorena when her sister’s mother-in-law followed Lorena’s footsteps. Now, we have to remember the mother-in-law in our prayers as well. Tonight will be the sixth evening that is extra … Continue reading →
I suppose for a child, adult seems to be larger than life and that’s how my nephew, Carlos, drew his mom. Tall, colorful clothing with beautiful red smiling lips. As for the arms, I don’t know why they turned … Continue reading →
It was there calling to serve and now they are both called in the afterlife. First Barb on September 2015, then Brenda on February 2016. The call becomes important to them not to save the world, solve all problems and … Continue reading →
The letter of thanksgiving written by a grieving husband is a wonderful story in celebrating a Canadian Thanksgiving Day. After his 34-year-old wife suffered a devastating asthma attack and later died, the Boston writer Peter DeMarco wrote the following letter … Continue reading →
I really do not know much about Mother. My siblings have asked her numerous times to write her story. If she can’t write maybe she can record her memoir. They gave her a recorder. Thinking that she might do it, … Continue reading →