Please share this around – we are none of us alone; we are all connected. You never know who’s lives you’ll change with your words.
Funerals are not for the dead; they are for the living.
If we are to believe in the afterlife, we believe that they are already in a better place, A place where the beauty of the flowers, the churches, and the songs pale by comparison. The love they feel far outweighs the love they feel from those in attendance of their comital.
Funerals are not for the dead; they are for the living.
If we are to believe that there is no afterlife, then they are already gone. The end. Fin. They will not feel the love, appreciate the flowers, or hear the songs. Those in attendance will tell stories, feel the sweet release of a good cry, and maybe – just maybe – gain some semblance of closure. But those who have died will reap nothing.
Funerals are not for the dead; they are for the living.
Today, we gather to celebrate their contributions to the enrichment of our lives. We are there to comfort each other; to try to make sense of the loss of their light in our world. We fortify ourselves against the pain of their passing with hugs and sweet words of our loved ones, and words of our faiths.
Funerals are not for the dead; they are for the living.
My aunt passed away today and amidst the concerns for the containment of CoVID-19, we are not permitted to attend the funeral. We want everyone to be safe.
Funerals are not for the dead; they are for the living.
I love you, Aunt Netta, and I will always miss your light.
We at The Band Back Together Project know how stressful life – especially during these dark months – can be. So we’re going to brighten up your week with one of our Friends of The Band Facebook Group Thing because who doesn’t love an adorable animal picture?
If you’d like to submit an awesome picture of your animal, you may do so by creating an account and adding media to a post about your animal, or by emailing becky@bandbacktogether.com or stacey@bandbacktogether.com!
My parents were moving across country (California) and asked me to take their cat in and I was all YAS because he is the sweetest and cutest cat – if you’re His Person. They’d named him after some Romantic artist I can’t remember, but I decided that he was Leo. Specifically, Little Leo. He was TINY.
He was one of those one person cats and thankfully, as I lord over Nathan frequently and with gusto, he loves me best.
Now that he’s not given free run of the house or the outdoors, he’s well, he’s chunked out.
He’s now called Big Fat Leo and we love each and every one of his rolls.
We at The Band Back Together Project know how stressful life – especially during these dark months – can be. So we’re going to brighten up your week with one of our Friends of The Band Facebook Group Thing because who doesn’t love an adorable animal picture?
If you’d like to submit an awesome picture of your animal, you may do so by creating an account and adding media to a post about your animal, or by emailing becky@bandbacktogether.com or stacey@bandbacktogether.com!
From our wonderful friend TL:
This is our earless wonder Clementine.
She came to us as a foster and I just couldn’t let her go.
All our animals are foster fails, she’s just the most recent. Lol. Getting bigger every day at 7 months but she’s full of that kitten energy! When I go to the bed, so does she.
She helps socialize our other fosters and brings unending joy!!!
It’s been a long time since I thought about those first few days with my daughter. Actually, that’s a lie. There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t think about the encephalocele, that pesky bit of brain matter growing out of the back of her head. The still-growing scar on her misshapen skull makes damn sure of that.
It’s always peeking out, just below her curls.
I wonder what she’ll think of that, someday, when she realizes that she’s not quite like the other kids. I know there will come a day when she hates it, another when she accepts it, and another when she realizes just how grave a situation it was… and what a miracle it is that she is still around today.
I know enough, thanks to my nursing background, to know what an absolute miracle it is that she’s walking around, talking, and demanding that I paint her bedroom pink. Not a day goes by that I don’t thank her for showing me the way, for helping me find my light, and for using that light to help others.
She’s the reason we, this Motley Band, are here. She’s the sole reason that this site, which has helped so many, exists. Without her, I’d just be some blogger with a blog that I use to pontificate about the underrepresentation of kumquats in today’s media. I’d still be Your Aunt Becky, but I wouldn’t have done this. Any of this.
In her short life, she has altered the path of so many. In her three small years, she has done so much more than I ever will.
While I could sit here, raging against her birth defect – which has given me a wicked case of PTSD – I don’t. I celebrate it. I celebrate that one tiny bit of brain that has changed the course of my life forever.
Today, I ask you to share your stories of birth defects, birth trauma and birth injury. There are so many of us out there in the shadows, waiting to share how their lives have been changed with a few small words, a diagnosis.
The greatest stories remain untold, of course, not from a desire to tell them, but from a lack of an understanding ear.
In here, in this cozy library, fire crackling in the background, as we sit on overstuffed leather chairs, we are ready to lend you our ears.
I’m not usually one who talks about my dreams with anyone – mostly because they’re excruciatingly challenging to listen to, so I imagine that when I try, my listener is bored to pieces.
So I’ll refrain from the long-and-winding dreams and as you about this:
Why the hell am I all of a sudden dreaming about my exes – and I’m talking OLD SCHOOL exes? I’m dreaming of getting back together with them – it’s all night most nights right now.
