. . . the things we have been waiting for become real. And things we never imagined become real too.
On this very date last year, my friends J and T were alive and well. Our perfect grand-nephew had not yet been born and I was looking forward to General Assembly trips to Lebanon and Syria and Italy while continuing to serve Chicago Presbytery.
On this first day of 2018, as with the first days of other years, I’m well aware that the future brings both expected and unexpected adventures moving swiftly through deep joy and deep loss. And because I do not take my life span for granted, this is the day I re-write my funeral plans each year. They are in my phone and if you happen to be with me on that particular day, look under “If I Die Today” in my notes. You’ll find what you need.
Some of my death plans don’t change much – cremation, hymns, speakers. But the letter I hope someone will read at the service will be tweaked today. (Yes, I’ve written a homily for my own funeral.)
Life is sweet even when it’s doesn’t seem very sweet. And all it takes to want to live life to the full is to remember those moments in the past when we didn’t realize how happy we were, but then someone we treasured passed away and we wish we’d told them more often how amazing they were.
This could be the year that brings the miracles we’ve always wanted along with the struggles we’ve always avoided. It’s a good day to tell people how amazing they are. Happy New Year!
Image of the last Edmiston Reunion with both of my parents, 1988.
A Church for Starving Artists 