When mama was sick, I kept looking for this poem. I thought it was written by a Filipino and I always kept a copy of it because it seemed so helpful for people who had lost a loved one. I even got in touch with the guy whose father I thought had written it, but he didn't know what I was talking about.
Then I looked through my things about a week ago, and I found the poem among some of Mom's papers. It even had a spelling correction in the margin in Mom's handwriting. So I guess she liked it too, and she kept my copy of it.
But I believe in serendipity, one of those things that happen at a specific time for a specific purpose. I felt maybe Mom wanted to show it to my siblings, especially Alice and Vic.
I sent the poem to Alice in an email, and looked up the first lines from Wikipedia. That's when I realized it was even more beautiful in its original poem. So here it is:
Do not stand at my grave and weep,
I am not there, I do not sleep.
I am in a thousand winds that blow,
I am the softly falling snow.
I am the gentle showers of rain,
I am the fields of ripening grain.
I am in the morning hush,
I am in the graceful rush
Of beautiful birds in circling flight,
I am the starshine of the night.
I am in the flowers that bloom,
I am in a quiet room.
I am in the birds that sing,
I am in each lovely thing.
Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there. I do not die.
Mama had to attend a lot of functions when we were based in San Francisco. Here are a couple of photos of her:)
Oh Mama, I just can't ever get enough of you!