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Of Life and Death

 At 63 years of age, I often think about my passing.  One of my concerns is the reaction of my children.  I see others my age who seem to be quite stuck by the loss of a parent.  I am not.  It would be so much more unnatural and traumatic if one of my children died.  That's just not supposed to happen!  But parents dying before me, that's pretty much a given.

First, it starts with grandparents, great aunts and uncles, then filters down to parents and aunts and uncles.  There is only one remaining sibling on my dad's side; three for my mom (she was the oldest).There is no denying that I am at the top of the chain.  It's sobering.

I hope my children's thoughts of me will be positive.  I hope they can smile; even shed a tear at times. What I don't wish for them is that they can't let go.  I want them to recognize that this is the order of things.  I want them to be expecting it.  I want them to be prepared.

I am in much prayer for my family. I want them to be whole, happy, successful, and godly.  I pray to that end, daily.  Today, my prayer is that when I am gone they will be able to move on; not thinking that some great evil has befallen them, but that this is to be expected.  

I was past the 60 mark when my mother died.  I know that it is possible that happens for my oldest, but improbable beyond that. I struggle with the thought that in another 20 years, if I happen to live that long, my youngest will only be in her early 40's.  I have to give that to God.  He planned the timing of their births and he has my days in his hand, as well.

At all ages and stages of life, God is there.  What time I am afraid, I will trust in Him.

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