My Grandma is dying. It happened really fast. In a matter of a few weeks she went from normal, to, well, not normal. Seeing this rapid change of her life really has me thinking more about death.
A good friend of mine says that "death is just the next adventure." And the more I think about it the more I agree with him. While I am saddened by the eminent death of my Grandmother, I am more saddened at my lack of appreciation for her while she lived. Every time I visit her, I am flooded with memories of the times I could have done more, could have been kinder, and should have been more patient.
Death is not what scares me. Not treating the ones I love, the way I should, while I have time to do so, is what scares me. It is ironic to me that death can teach us more about how to live, than living does sometimes. I am reminded once again to be grateful for the time I have been given. I will try better not to waste it.
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1 comment:
I am so sorry to hear about that! I'm so glad you have such a wonderful perspective.
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