The Dead Are Unlikely To Be Grateful

The first person who I have known most of my adult life died this past summer. It was a premature death, someone who had not taken good care of themselves and not always made the best decisions, but also someone who very much wanted to live, and who unexpectedly died. We had a celebration of life at our home for him, and it was really a wonderful day. He had family and friends who traveled long distances to be there, and it was a deeply satisfying and moving day. I was very happy to be able to be there--my own survival to this point was not a given, and I was also happy to be able to do a good job of it. The food was simple, but good. The right people were invited and showed up--there were people across his life span, many I had not seen in years, so the event nurtured the living, as all funerals should. Once again, I am grateful we have a good space to celebrate in, but mostly that I am able to be grateful for both what I have and where I have been in life. As I said about my dad's funeral--he would have been please about everything except that he didn't live to see it.