The Fragility of Life

My uncle just died. So suddenly. None of us got to give a proper goodbye. I remember him laughing and having such joy that I honestly believe he'd have no regret over the kind of goodbye he gave us all. He went to sleep and he didn't wake up. None of us have any guarantee of tomorrow. At least not here on this earth. So many people said the same things about him- his joy, his teasing, his laughter, his gentleness. He was a teddy bear of a good ol' boy. I last saw him on Easter and we actually snapped a picture of it! You see we sometimes don't know when it'll be the last sentence we ever said to a loved one. So unpredictable, so out of our hands. Marriages break. Twin towers get crashed into by terrorists. Hurricanes go way beyond the bounds of the waters. The beautiful rose I grabbed from my Uncle's funeral faded and died. People stop being your friend. We hurt even those we love the most. We get rejected. The grass fades and the flower withers. Get over insecurity by serving others. My friend said to serve others so hard that you fall into bed "too tired to take your makeup off tired." What is wrong with this world? Something isn't right. You look around and you can see remnants. Lots of remnants but mixed with ugliness, evil, loss, pain, suffering. We live in a fallen world. This is not my home. I took a friend's idea of writing 100 things about my husband as she had done for hers. Then I carried this onto writing 100 things about a loved one and reading it at their funerals. I actually got to read one to my grandpa but he was dying and could only half-heartedly enjoy it. And I got to thinking, "Why in the world don't I write these things when they are still living? When they can hear or read these words and enjoy them?!" It's like they say- We must hold each other tighter. Tell each other we love each other. So it means read that book or play that game that the child asked you to. Even if you're bone tired. Sometimes choose that last minute run to the park with friends instead of vacuuming that carpet. Linger long over the scent of a freshly bathed babe. Look your 9- year old in the eye and give your full attention when she's telling that funny story and laugh too. A real laugh that communicates you've listened. It means listening to that teenager's heart when its late at night and you really would rather be laying your head on that pillow. Make normal things just a bit fancier and special. Send the sweet letter or text when it comes to your mind or give a quick phone call to let someone know you're thinking of them. Say your sorry just as quick as you can when you're wrong. Forgive ridiculously. But anyway- how'd we get in this mess? Why does our coffee grow cold, our fruit of our own womb scowl and cross their arms at us, why is life so stinking hard sometimes? Why do we have to hear of children starving to death, the unspeakable evils that happen to some, and why do the family over there (or we) have a child die of leukemia? Maybe it's something on a small daily level. There's mold that grows too soon on our raspberries and a floor that has to be swept for the 3rd time of the day... Or suddenly our own mood sours and we yell at a dear one of ours because of our own impatience.  And then there's the good- that day your kid makes you real proud, the cream in your coffee just hitting the spot, the cottony, comfy bed that allows you that much needed rest, the peaks that come in marriage when you're not down in the valley, sitting and savoring God's word in your comfy chair... To be continued...