I remember when my maternal Grandma died. And my paternal grandpa. Then for a long time, nobody died in my family.
Cliff's Uncle George, who thought I could do no wrong, passed away when my kids were young. It's hard to find people who put you on a pedestal like that, and I hated to see him go.
After that, it was a long time before anyone I really truly cared about died. So I was fine.
Then people started "going home" faster than I could ever have imagined.
Momma. Daddy. Cliff's mom and dad. My brother. Cliff's brother, Warren. My sister's husband. Every beloved uncle and aunt I ever had have gone on, except for two; and they aren't doing so well. My favorite pickin' and grinnin' buddy from the past, Leona (and she was younger than me).
So I really didn't need to see more people dying at this point in my life.
But alas, I made Internet friends, and they started dying too.
Goodoldys. Revwife1. Westbilt. Lona's husband. White Dove's husband. Sue's husband.
A year ago my husband had a close brush with death.
I started my AOL journal, made journal friends, and watched more people die. Mostly from one form of cancer or another.
And some are fighting the "Big C" even now. For the second time, dang it.
Then, for some reason, I wandered innocently through Blogger journals some time back and discovered this man dying from pancreatic cancer in Canada. And I cared. My father-in-law died from pancreatic cancer, you know.
At some point in life you realize you are going to die; we're all going to die. It makes you aware, somehow, of how brief our stay on earth is. Of our mortality.
I really don't think our own deaths are as hard to consider as the deaths of those around us. The ones we love.
I don't know about you, but I look to that Supreme Being, the Almighty God, to forgive our sins and lead us gently home. And to do the same for those we love.
It's the best I can hope for.