Death is that point where your life is reduced to sentences and picture. Where your family is reduced to tears. Where everything you were, and everything you did, and every accomplishment, relationship and accumulation of goods is suddenly reduced. Reduced to a morality play with neat little lessons. Reduced to stuff in a truck to be given away. Reduced boxes and bags. Reduced papers to be sorted. Reduced to a jar of ashes.
And so we are reduced to thankful and gratitude. For what we have and who we have and what we can still do and for all the years that have passed. For our truckloads of stuff. For our health and our habits. For our jobs and providence. For memories and love and living and beauty… And mostly for relationships both solid and broken.
They say life sends death little gifts and he keeps them forever.