Death came this week, not once, but thrice, to people I know and love. It has visited the periphery of my life, a dear friend of my daughter, fathers of two friends. We are often hit hard when death happens, even if it is expected. It knocks the wind from our sails and we have to stop. Life interrupted. No...life continuing, the way it always has.
Death is part of our everyday lives. It gets close sometimes, right into our personal space. My deepest wishes for comfort are with the families that are grieving these deaths, and celebrating these lives.
We are all on borrowed time. We live to die. We can be sterilized from the reality of it in these times because we have removed the face of it from our daily lives. Hospice, funeral directors, nursing homes, hospitals...all of these wonderful professionals handle the details; the things that used to be done by families. As I so appreciate the amazing jobs done by these caring individuals and organizations, I do ponder if we need to recognize more of death as a very intimate part of every day.
To this end, I do not wish to go to bed angry, or leave the house angry. I always wish to speak my love at the end of every conversation. I want to keep in my mind that we are here for so short a time, and to make every moment precious.
I may not be here tomorrow.
Peace and light.