Saturday, August 20, 2011

The Valley still Echoes with his Laughter

In Canmore along the creek bed there is a bench dedicated to a boy who lived only to be five years old.  It gives his dates and finishes with:  "The valley still echoes with his laughter."

I sat on it for a while and let the dog sniff around the bushes, admiring the majestic mountains, the creek bed with its huge boulders and the town below.

"He's got the whole world in his hands."  The simple song came to my mind.  If we believe--we know that he has the whole world in his hand and he even knows my thoughts now.  One can cradle oneself in this song.

But there are our dead.

There is this little boy, sorely missed with his memorial bench here.
It made me think that I might want to set up some kind of memorial somewhere also for myself.
Stefan has been gone for two and a half years.

There there is the family in Canmore who lost two children when a tree fell on them, killing them both.
There is the girl run over by a train when she walked on the tracks with her i-pod going.
There is someones grandson, who killed himself.  The parents are pregnant again with twins at a late age.
There is another boy who killed himself.  My niece dances with the sister.

I know some things about this town below.

He has got the whole world in his hands and he has also all our dead in his hands.

Will I ever be able to think about anything else?
Do I have to?

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