I’ve been thinking a lot about death lately which automatically causes me to think about life. I know what you are thinking. I haven’t written a post in months and I start back in with death as my topic? Could I be more cliched?
In the past few months I’ve lost several people I cared for. The losses were sudden. I was sad. I began to think about my own life. I considered what is important to me. I wonder about the times I’ve been so frustrated and disappointed. I think about all the second chances I’ve had.
On an early morning walk today I thought about what an amazing life I have. Twenty years ago I would not have imagined that I would be in a loving marriage with two little boys. I could not have dreamed up this beautiful Valley Center I live in. Twenty years ago I didn’t think very much of myself. I had a lot to overcome. I’ve got so much to be grateful for these days.
My Nana is dying. Of course we are all dying but she is closer then many of us. Nana is 92. She was a huge part of my childhood. She’s been a huge part of my adult life. She gave me a lot of chances. I’ve thanked her many times for her part in my life, for her huge influence, for winter nights with dinner on tv trays and a fire in the hearth. Nana’s death is slow and messy. It’s difficult to watch. When I was last with her I held her hand and told her our stories. I told her about our sunny days in the boat and lunch on the lake. I told her about the cabins and the tall dark fir trees that came right down to the edge of the water. I told her the stories she can’t remember any more.
Nana, Mom, B and Me checking out the boat my Nana and Papa fished from in Alaska years ago.
At night, when I tuck my boys into bed I tell them my stories about the lake. I tell them about the silly things my Papa used to say. I touch their noses and kiss them just like my Nana did with me. I want my boys to have stories to tell me when I’m old. When my boys are adults I want them to remember bits of their childhood that make them smile. I want them to feel that warmth that I feel when I think about the adventures I’ve had with my friends who are gone.
When I think about all this death and all of this life, I remember that the small things really are important. I remember that I value family and community and above all love.
Figure 