Gonna be the death of me yet

A friend told us that her grandmother had passed away, and we attempted to say things that would make her feel better, but she was too much in shock about the death and its ramifications on the family to hear words of consolation right now.

Understandable. Death is not easy to handle, especially when you're just reaching the age of majority and you haven't much experience with it just yet. And in this case, there seem to be other repercussions to resound within her family - who will take in the uncle who used to live with the grandmother, and so forth.

In much the way that the same time a young couple is planning a wedding is a very hard time for them also to begin life together as a married couple, having to go through a family funeral is a very tough thing for people to do while they are in mourning for their loved one. That's why it's nice for friends and neighbors to show up with a tub o'chicken or a baked ham or a cake or casserole at these times.

And, please,visit at the funeral home! Some people are really freaked out at the thought of entering one, but as someone who remembers the stream of friends and kin and loved ones coming by to offer a hug or handshake when my father died, I can tell you, it means a lot...if for no other reason than to reassure the bereaved that life goes on and they will not go through it alone.

When I was thirteen, I was expected to die from some sort of mystery illness - something in the encephalitis/meningitis area had me down for the count. In those days, there didn't seem to be so much concentration on the emotional needs of the patient, so a doctor came in and rather matter-of-factly informed me and my parents that I might not make it through that night. A priest came in and prepared to give me the last rites, but I told him that I wasn't Catholic. I guess he had dealt with that a few times, because he had a ready answer:

"Son, it can't hurt."

SO as you can plainly see, I lived through that night and the many thousand between then and now. Along the way I developed a sense that I was sort of playing on free bonus time, so I have tried to find as much happiness as I could for myself and for those around me. There will come a day when it's too late to tell someone you love them, and I'd just as soon have them know that I did, in case they leave unexpectedly.

Read this woman's brave story (page 25) and see what I mean. We all have a rendezvous with death at some disputed barricade, to quote an old poem, and it's just better to make life pleasant until we reach that point - and for our friends to help our survivors cope.

I promise to write about something a little more cheery tomorrow. This blog reflects what's on my mind, which is usually a place of mirth. Enjoy your day!