Everybody wants to go to Heaven but nobody wants to die

I am just finishing a book by the above title and as I read today I was reminded of the day Grandma passed away, the week after and the memorial that was held in her honor. I was taken back to that terrible Tuesday evening when my mom called me and I was expecting to hear the worst. I sat on the edge of my bed with my elbows on my knees, head lowered and the phone held trembling up against the right side of my face. I remember hearing the words that I almost expected to hear but never really wanted to...there's something about that moment for all of us that is surreal, awe-ful and unnerving.

I thought today about the "grief stages" again and how I moved from disbelief to pain to guilt to emptiness to anger and beyond in just several short hours. It was apparent to me and everyone around here that Grandma was so very important to my life and that her no longer being here would affect me in ways that would take years to fully explain.

I was drinking coffee from Grandma's coffee cup with her initial on it while paging through a few chapters of this book today. As I read I realized how much this pain and emptiness really brings us all together. I mean, think about it...nearly everyone - if they've been on the planet for at least 10 years - and they don't live in a hole - has been to a funeral. Everyone has asked, "why?" Everyone has questioned eternity. Everyone has faced the certainty of death and the uncertainty of life after. We are really all together in the same boat, though often arriving at our conclusions, or questions, in different ways.

So why do I write all of this? Well, it's become apparent to me today more than it has in the last 9 months (that's right, Grandma's been gone for 9 months) that going through Grandma's death and all of the grief brought us - her family - all closer together. And even more than that it has prepared me, more than any schooling ever could, to float in this boat with those who will go through it again and again and again. The memory of losing Grandma was so easily brought back to me today that I could almost feel the emptiness in my gut. I believe it is this fact that will make a future portion of my life useful, helpful and redemptive in a time when another needs to sit with one who understands. One who's in the boat too. One who has been afloat in grief and came out on the other shore okay and able to face another day. This is life and this is death. It is shared and it is fragile. We will more than likely float here more than once in our lifetime and each time we find a hand to lead us through. I pray someday that I can be, that we all get the chance to be that hand.