Life and Death

Lois and Dick remained friends of mine long after I had left my parish and found a new church home. What a lovely couple! I never met two people who smiled more at each other than they did. Oh, I'm certain that they had their share of troubles just like the rest of us, but that never interfered with the genuine love they shared.

Lois could hold my infant son and quiet him with her voice. Dick could make anyone laugh.  I've never heard anyone say anything against either of them, nor have I ever heard a criticism from them.

They had been together for sixty-five years.

I saw Lois again yesterday, and saw Dick for the last time. He passed into the hands of God, and only a shell that we call his body remained for a viewing.

The room was crowded, the parking lot overflowing with well-wishers and family who had come to support Lois in her grief. At eighty-seven, she was still as beautiful as the wedding picture they displayed. I asked, of course, how she was hanging on. She said it was her faith that sustained her.

The road will be long and hard once the friends and family go home and she returns to an empty house for the first time. She's fortunate to have devoted sons and daughters-in-law to help her through her trials, and the peace of God to mend her heart.

Our lives can change in  an instant. 

The years we spend with loved ones are what we make them.

We can spend them as a journey of devotion and companionship, or we can rip them to shreds. We can ride out the tough times when anger rules our minds, or we can give up and wallow in defeat. It's complicated at best, challenging to be sure, impossible at worst.

Lois and Dick were one of God's miracles.

I wish that for you, too.