We are born.
We die.
Those are the only two things we can truly count on.
All the rest of life between our birth and our death is part luck, part work, part grace of our maker.
This weekend my husband and I attended a wedding. This was my 76 year old Aunt Elaine who eight years ago became a widow and now has found a nice man to share her life with. Charlie will never replace Uncle Don, but he has brought joy and smiles back into her life. That was Saturday.
Tuesday we attended a funeral. Elaines older brother and my dad's younger brother, Glen celebrated his 80th birthday in February. Last week after a year long battle with heart failure, his mortal days ended and we traveled with many others to St. George to say "good-bye".
Each wedding reminds me of the joys and the new beginnings we are given in life.
Each funeral reminds of the certainty that at some point we all will lay down our mortal body and move on into the eternal world.
At these times I wonder if I will ever be ready to say my time here is done. There is always something left to do, some quirk to fine-tune, and many mistakes to make restitution for.
As touching as these events were, they pale to the spirit felt when a new baby is born into the family. It is like a precious gift from heaven in the cutest package ever! You can feel love, goodness, and pure joy all coming from a little bundle of wrinkled skin. I dearly loved my babies! But I wonder if maybe I should have spent more time enjoying those seven gifts, for now they have all grown and are taking their turn at the real world. My time for nurturing those little ones is past and I must find other things to do. Then one day it will be my turn to breathe my last breath and pass through the veil.
Will I be ready? Not today.
Will I want to stay here? Maybe.
Will I be at peace with no regrets? I certainly hope so.
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
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