Tag: Death

Death Is Part Of Life

Debbie Sent A Rainbow This Morning
Debbie Sent A Rainbow This Morning

Death is part of life. It just is. Death arrives all the time. Every day.

Some deaths are a blessing. Some are tragic and break our hearts – so much so that we wonder if our heart will ever heal.

Mostly, I think, it’s the senseless deaths and the sudden deaths that hurt the most and cut the deepest.

Like yesterday.

A Facebook update brought the news that a longtime colleague and friend died yesterday. Apparently, complications from a routine colonoscopy. Debbie was 43.

As I upload a You Tube video from the backseat of the car, in my son’s school parking lot, I’m reminded of how fragile life is, what a gift it is, and how our friends can touch us with the character of their lives.

I’ll post the video here later today probably. I shot it April 1 this year. It’s a Brooks & Dunn song, sung by a young man born with no eyes, and legs that don’t work.

Twistee Treat To Do

Who Wants Ice Cream?
Who Wants Ice Cream?

I still have the post-it note up on my office wall, near the phone.

Crazy, isn’t it? I mean the things we think about and the things we do.

So, in the midst of the fairly intense topic the past few days, I’m going to switch gears today, and revisit a topic from ten days ago.

Something like 14 months ago, we thought our beloved Canine Son (Yellow Lab) Carter was going to die, perhaps in less than one week.

I asked our son, “What do you think we should do with Carter before he leaves us?”

“Take him for ice cream at Twistee Treat”, he said, without hesitating.

And that’s exactly what we did. In hind sight, that trivial post-it note probably didn’t need to be written. I mean, what Father would forget to do something as important as honoring this “last request”?

And then there’s the next question, “Why does this adult (50) still have a stupid little post-it note hanging on his office wall?”

Everything Is A Miracle

Einstein Was Correct
Einstein Was Correct

“There are two ways to live: you can live as if nothing is a miracle; you can live as if everything is a miracle.” — Albert Einstein

Attending Kevin’s funeral on Christmas Eve, this quote from Albert Einstein was printed on the cover of the funeral bulletin.

Have you ever been struck with a profound thought or observation, when you least expect it? When it’s presented in such a deceptively simple format – in this case, printed text?

One more thing struck me from attending Kevin’s funeral, but not until this very moment. Kevin’s son, maybe three years old, was there, of course. Estimating there were 300 people attending.

But the only other child I saw was the one in my arms most of the Mass.

The End Was Imminent

We Will Miss You, Carter
We Will Miss You, Carter

Imminent. Looming. Threatening.

This is what we thought October 2008, just over a year ago.

Our beloved Canine Son, Carter, a nine-year old Yellow Lab, was very sick.

Our Vet spotted an unusual sore in the roof of Carter’s mouth during his routine annual exam two months prior.

The sore ate a hole in the roof of his mouth at an alarming rate – what seemed literally overnight. In hindsight, maybe we panicked.

We honestly thought that Carter may not see another weekend and we quickly made arrangements for “one last trip” to our favorite Family vacation spot, Sanibel Island.

We talked with our son (eight) about death. We talked about our favorite Carter memories. We talked about what we’d miss the most about Carter.

We said goodbye to Carter.

The Lord works in mysterious ways.

Carter is still with us. He still struggles with the complications from the hole when he drinks and eats, but overall, it’s a miracle he’s still here.

Tomorrow, the gift that visit brought us.