When you're young, the last thing you ever think about is that life has an expiration date. No one of us knows when we're really leaving this beautiful Earth. And thank goodness I had a great childhood where I wasn't reminded of death or lived with it. The first time I felt the pangs of loss of life was when Grandma Eva died. I was eight years old, hardly old enough to process truly what I was losing. I remember the pain I felt at her death. I'd never lost anything before. And I cried I think because my Mother was in so much pain that I felt that same pain. Her funeral was beautiful. I remember sitting on the front row. They sang I Know That My Redeemer Lives. To this DAY, I still cry at that song. If I let myself think about the experience of being 8 and facing that death, I tear up and can't sing. I love the song though.
So after Grandma died, Grandpa Que was not long in life before he too passed away. I mourned his loss as well but for some reason Grandma's death seems to stand out more. Along the years, I faced death as dogs lost their lives to cars and illness. It was sad and I hated the grief--it was paralyzing. But even at these ages of losing something precious, I still had no inner reflection as to my own life and its length. It didn't hit me until one cold January day 3 years ago. I was going through boxes in the basement, trying to clear out space and organize. I found a sweet little picture of all the nieces and nephews. And they were holding my baby boy, Evan. Evan is now 12. But at the time of finding the picture, Evan was 9. I remember staring at that picture and my thoughts drifted back to that time. I remember that day when the picture was taken and my thoughts. Evan was a few months old and I thought to myself "Those parents who tell you your children grow up too fast are crazy. I have 18 plus years with this sweet little boy and that is a long time". And then like a brick dropped from an 80 story building, I realized Evan was already half way to 18 and it felt like I had closed my eyes and opened them again and he shot from infant to 9 year old. And then the reality of life and of death hit me. How there would be a time when I would be old (I hope) and that my life had an expiration date. And I cried. I mourned the loss of nothing in particular...just that Evan was growing up too fast and I was growing old too fast. And then I realized all these years why my Dad has practically had one foot in the grave, saying he was old when he was in his late 30s and I understood now why he was doing that.
When you love life, it's hard to think it's gotta end sometime. I could go on living like this for another 100 years. Only, the kids gotta stay small. Please let them stay small. Please let them say words wrong and get food in their hair by mistake and have blobs of chocolate on their chin after licking the beaters of a cookie recipe. Let them hold your hand in innocence forever and squirm in your arms when you try and plant a juicy kiss on their cheek. I could go on if you want. There are plenty of these moments I cherish and want never to go away. Nights of listening to them talk as they sleep in one room together on the weekend, sharing stories and giggling over something completely ridiculous. God knew what he was doing by sending children...they are the greatest beauty in their simplicity. And why do we have to lose that to their adulthood? I guess that's what my parents said as I aged. I was eager to get older and they were eager to keep me little. Life!
So the reason I have such great reflection today is that a good family friend passed away. She and my mom have been the best of friends since they were young girls in the small town of Mt. Pleasant Utah. And they shared everything together, from growing up and dating to getting married and giving birth. And as a child I remember going up to Susan's house. I loved her house. And my life is synonymous with the Litchfield Family. Susan played piano at my reception. And then the evil ugliness of an early end to life stepped in. Susan had pancreatic cancer. She was such a kind spirit and you think those that live good lives and have good spirits should be the ones that never die. But her life ended peacefully on December 8, 2010. And I mourn her. I mourn what was her life, mixed with mine as I think about where I was when I knew her best and where I am now. I am not old. But I still have that heavy heart of having to sometime face that the end of life is inevitable. I don't want it to be. But when a friend or loved one dies, it is the cut into life that says "Yoo hoo, remember me? I'm death. You have to face me sometime Eva". I don't want to. I feel like Scrooge when he's with the Spirit of Christmas Future. He sees his grave and his tombstone and weeps openly, begging for more of his life and the chance to live it right. I want to live long and joyously and I'm sorry Susan's life got cut short. I think positively that she got to live to see her kids grown and living lives of their own. She lived life to the fullest. And that is good. And there is some peace in thinking that. But dangit, don't let me experience death before I'm 90. I have decided to become a marathon walker and weight lifter extraordinaire by the time I turn 50 so I can be a buff grandma (later, much later).
I usually like to post funny commentaries because life has lots of funny to offer. But today, it's all seriousness so that you know I can own it. Love the world! Love your life. And you young parents, know that us older parents ARE right...kids do grow up too fast. It's so great to be a part of it all. God is good. He gave me four beautiful kids to completely adore and parent. And I am thankful for friends and for family (for you reading). I love life. I hope you find a way to love it too, for the sake of those who lose theirs early. It makes you realize that every day should be seized to its fullest. I forget that as I hop in the car and repeat the mundane things of the every day life. But when I reflect, my gosh my heart is full and I see the greatness of the Plan of Salvation. I hope to live my life to the fullest. And if I forget, I now have this post to remind me. Life ROCKS.
