A week ago today rocked me a bit. My phone told me I was receiving a call from my aunt. The voice on the call told me differently. The voice was that of a cousin, who, from her grandmother’s phone, was calling to tell me a first cousin of mine had died.
This Aunt had already lost a sister and brother in the past 5 months. Now her 61 year old son, himself a father of 2 and devoted husband, had died of a heart attack.
Later in the day, Rachel shared news with me from facebook that a dear friend of ours had lost a cousin to a massive stroke that same day. She had been 35.
The death of someone as close as a first cousin confronts one with one’s own mortality. The death of someone a decade and a half younger brought it even closer to home for me.
As we sat watching something from our DVR, I actually caught myself praying that I would live to see the end of the episode.
I chuckled at myself, then gave thanks that, this same day that death seemed to impinge so closely, I had also received, by mail, results from the bloodwork of my recent annual physical. All the numbers were good – confirming the call I had received late last week.
So I went to bed that night pondering this one line from the Service of Death and Resurrection – a line I had heard read at the funeral I led the day before: “In the midst of life, we are in death.”
Indeed, we are. Let’s be thankful for the days we have, and share the love with others that we have received.