Facing your own mortality was a product of living in a small town. I well remember sitting in funeral services. My parents would take me with them, Daddy in a suit and tie, Mother in a dark dress. Funerals were as much a part of our life as weddings, Sunday services, and family gatherings. I'd often doze off during the message being given by the minister at the funeral. But when it was time to 'make the walk' to the front of the church to have a final viewing of the loved one who had passed on I was always ready to go. It fascinated me to stretch on tiptoe to look into the luxuriously draped casket so see the person lying there so neatly and primly dressed.
We all have an end to our days but in our current society we try to avoid death at all costs and certainly don’t take our children to funeral services. Allowing death to be a part of my community while growing up caused me to understand at a young age that life is measured, and one doesn’t know the length of that measure.
Lesson Learned: Life will end, how will I write my story?
