This beautiful vignette was sent to us by one of Tim's friends. I had never read this before and it moved me to tears.
The Little Ship
I stood watching as the little ship sailed out to sea.
The setting sun tinted his white sails with a golden light, and as he disappeared from sight, a voice at my side whispered, "He is gone."
But the sea was a narrow one.
On the farther shore a little band of friends had gathered to watch and wait in happy expectation.
Suddenly they caught sight of the tiny sail and, at the very moment when my companion had whispered, "He is gone" a glad shout went up in joyous welcome,
"Here he comes!"
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Here is a poem that was printed on the prayer card of a dear friend who, like Josh, also died too young.
Gone From My Sight
by Henry Van Dyke
I am standing upon the seashore. A ship, at my side,
spreads her white sails to the moving breeze and starts
for the blue ocean. She is an object of beauty and strength.
I stand and watch her until, at length, she hangs like a speck
of white cloud just where the sea and sky come to mingle with each other.
Then, someone at my side says, "There, she is gone"
Gone where?
Gone from my sight. That is all. She is just as large in mast,
hull and spar as she was when she left my side.
And, she is just as able to bear her load of living freight to her destined port.
Her diminished size is in me -- not in her.
And, just at the moment when someone says, "There, she is gone,"
there are other eyes watching her coming, and other voices
ready to take up the glad shout, "Here she comes!"
that is truly beautiful & moving
How beautiful! The band of angels in heaven have welcomed our Josh in and they are Rejoicing, enjoying his smile, his laughter, watching him play with all of the animals, and watch the sunset and watch over all of us here who love him and miss him sooo. One day he will be there to welcome us in as well, to greet us with that warm and loving smile.
Hello: I just lost a dear friend and recall a poem that Maria Shriver read during Tim Russert's memorial. It was incredibly moving and I never forgot it. It's "The Little Ship," and it was originally given to her when her cousin, John Kennedy Jr. died in a plane crash years before. I intend to read this poem at my friend's memorial, which gives us all a bit of hope that he is being received on the other end. Here is Maria Shriver's speech: http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2008/06/18/maria-shriver-at-tim-russ_n_107933.html
Do not stand at my grave and weep
I am not there; I do not sleep
I am a thousand winds that blow,
I a the diamond glints on snow,
I am the sun on ripened grain,
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning''s hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circilng fight
I am the soft starlight at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry;
I am not there; I did not die.
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