We're going to a wake for a very sweet lady this afternoon. An aggressive cancer has erased the life of someone special, who was loving and sweet. Now that I'm in my mid-60s, when death takes someone in their mid-70s, I can't help but feel panic in my heart.
Everyone is entitled to their own opinion as to the formalities of death. I personally am not one who favors wakes. When my mother died, I decided to have the visitation before the funeral so as to combine the two. My husband, on the other hand, firmly believes in the healing power of a wake. And, maybe he's right.
All that matters is that we support and show that we love and care for those who have lost someone influential in their lives. Actually, once we get to know anyone, that person touches us and leaves a lasting imprint. The older we get, the more we are losing those we have known over the years. We gradually become accustomed to dying.
What a subject to be blogging about!! But, really, why is it that we are taught to fear and mourn death when we're also taught that Heaven is where we go next? I could never figure that out.
Boy, this heat spell sure is getting old. Yesterday we went grocery shopping. When we came out of Walmart, our eyeglasses steamed over like we'd entered a sauna. Oppressive, that's what it is. Couldn't wait to get back home in the air-conditioning, where the fuzzy one was sprawled out on the wooden floor comfy as could be. I take comfort in knowing that we care for one precious little creature in this big wide world.
Whenever and wherever we go for a drive, both of us take a bottle of water with us. What did we do before bottled water? Of course, we refill our bottles, even though the retailers tell us not to. When one of us takes a drink of water, we pass it to the other for a swig. The fuzzy one loves to drink water in the car, so we always have a plastic margarine container in the glove compartment. When she's thirsty, she puts her paw on the water bottle.
