Death Is Not Final

Life is tough.

My daughter sent me a text.  Her husband’s best friend died last night.  In his sleep.  In his twenties.  He was to be married next week.

No matter the plans we make.  No regard given to the people we love.   We have no control.  Our lives are a gift.  And we don’t know for how long.

I struggle with the idea that I can sit here and think.  And without warning, my thoughts will end.

Death is not final.

Not for those left behind.

And not for those who have gone on (my personal belief).

The changes here are forever felt.

The changes There are unknown to us here.

Death is a surprise.

And yet we know it will happen.

Death seems cruel.

But we all have the same fate of it.

Death is natural.

But how do you makes sense of it for a young wife to be, or the tiny child, left behind.

Death happens every day.

And every day we are surprised by death.

And for every death,

We don’t know what to say.

Or how to comfort.

But our hearts ache.

And our sympathies weep.

Life is tough.

With the chaos of death.