PrayingWithMyFingers

Dear God,

I feel blue this morning.  Perhaps I am blue along with lots of other people who might be thinking about death and dying.  Farrah and Michael have reminded us with their passing that death comes to all, either expected or with a surprise visit.  Death does not take a holiday. You know that thoughts of death have seldom been far from my mind.

You will recall my obsessive thoughts on death started when I was twenty.  Twenty, right?  That was when Michael – only four months after our marriage – was in a head-on collision that almost killed him.  I remember being driven from New London to Hartford in a Fiat convertible and being dazzled by the brilliant sun and the wind on my face while the whole time my young husband was in an ER room with a ruptured aorta waiting on my arrival.

The doctors warned me that they expected him to die.  He did not.  But, I think it was during his prolonged battle for life that the obsessive thoughts began.  For almost six months he was in an intensive care unit.  For part of that time, I had a room in the hospital close to him.  Every morning, I remember, without fail, my first thought would be to wonder if Michael were still alive.  After he finally did survive and make it out of the hospital, my first morning thought switched to wondering if today would be the day that I die.

Within months of Michael’s return home, my father died.  Heart attack, stroke?  The verdict was unclear.  His funeral was the first of my young life.  I remember kissing his face in the casket but there were no feelings attached to the action.  I was numb inside and out.

For years, thank you God, there were no funerals. Yet when my Granny Ferguson died, (Dad’s mom), no one even let me know.  A very special person in my life and no one told me!  Missing a funeral is not always a blessing.

When April was born, I awoke the next morning in a panic because she was not in the hospital bed next to me.  My first thought was that maybe she died during the night.  Death became a bigger, more deadly, enemy than ever before.  It took some time for me to trust You with my daughter.  Remember when I used to prayer to You, and surrender my life to You but with the caveat, “Don’t touch April.”  I felt my life would be over if anything happened to my daughter.  That was a hard, hard surrender.

Then in recent years, more death.  My grandmother’s death (my mother’s mother) was my first realization that a dead body really is an empty shell.  Empty of life and personality and my Granny Richardson’s hootspa.

Then Ed.  An amazing final three-month journey with him after a diagnosis of terminal lung cancer.  Ed’s death left me with a gaping question, “Where is he?” (We have to talk more about Ed’s death – too much to deal with this morning).

Then Mom.  I only went home for a visit.  A visit that turned into about ten days resulting in an amputation first and then her death.  But thank you God that You got me there for those ten amazing, healing days.  Ten days that finalized the healing You had begun between us a few years prior.  (Also too much to deal with this morning!)

God, I know as I keep living, there will be more deaths.  I am not sure I understand why this has to be.  But then I also cannot imagine living forever (at least not forever on earth – life on earth can be exhausting).  If I believe in You, and I do, then why would I fear dying and a return to You?  These great mysteries are too much for my little mind.

My faith in You is based on my experience of You, of the transformation You have wrought in my life, and the many miracles You have given me.  Yet, death will still come.  In the end, all I have is my simple faith.  A faith that says to me, “You created me, You will never leave me, You will never forsake me and because You are Love I need not fear death.  After all, where Love is, death is never the end of the story.

Photo: by LawrenceOP @flickr.com