Death and Life

Good morning.
This morning I want to talk about death. You don't have to read it. I won't quiz you the next time you see me to find out whether you've been reading my blog.
But this morning, I'm dressed in all black. Black sweater, black pants, black heels. I am planning on going to a viewing with my coworkers. Someone will have to stay back, and it might be me, but I am prepared.

I am prepared to go to a viewing of the son of one of my coworkers. It seems that the laws of life should dictate that people should not die early. But they do. We all have stories of people we love dying before they should. Don't we?

So I think about death often. I have learned by now that the people I love are not promised to me indefinitely. They are a gift to me right this very minute, to be treasured and loved right now. This is part of life for me. Death must be part of life because it gives value and meaning to every day. Even to those things that seem mundane.

Tim sometimes jokes that we have a deal: he dies before I do. I remind him (of course) that I never agreed to such a deal. But I do know that I am not promised him forever. It would be painful, to say the least, to live without him, but I try to treasure him every day because of that knowledge. (That is not to say that I am always successful in this attempt.)

Tim also says that if he does die before I do, he wants a party. You know, a celebration. I think there is validity to celebrating his life and what he will leave behind. I want that for myself, too. A life worth celebrating.