Today is a dreary, cloudy day so common in Iowa.  It reminds me that many people feel this dreariness on a regular basis regardless of the weather.  Grief can grind us to a halt, confuse our thoughts, distract us from our daily routine because it's so linked to the one we loved.  That link remains after death.  It's our longing to connect, for a moment, a blink, just to know that they're doing okay.  

How difficult it is to love someone who is mortal, and we are all mortal.  I remember seeing a slide from a talk that read:  100% of us will die.  It's powerful to see that.  It made me realize how much denial we use to deflect that truth.  Not me.  Not today.  No need to spend any time on that topic!  And then someone we love dies and we are dashed, enraged, an emotional wreck.  If only we would've said more, talked more about death.  What did they believe?  Are they still "out there?"

My husband is now facing triple heart bypass surgery.  I'm terrified.  We have talked but he's much less willing to stay on the topic than I am.   I could talk forever about all the unknowns.  Because we don't know.  We can't know.  We don't get to know.  In my mind I go back to falling on my knees in supplication to God.  Please.  Please let him live.  Let him be okay.  We have two more weeks to wait, just to see the surgeon.  Then, who knows when surgery will be?

Still, death is all around us.  Bridgerton had a whole episode about Francesca's husband John dying from a headache.   Then, Landman had John Hamm having a heart attack!  How ironic that we keep seeing these reminders, especially while it looms large for us?

That's so like life, teasing us to connect, to love only to remind us that there are no guarantees.  None, really.  I will enjoy today.  I will make certain to do just that.  You too, if you can.