I read an article this morning, in an addendum to the local newspaper called The Campus Star in which our budding young journalists take a hand at writing articles, OP/ED pieces, etc. Some of them are very well done, but it doesn't take long to realize that the authors are children, and by nature fairly immature. One specific article, entitled "Why We Must Not Fear Death," was an opinion piece by a junior at the charter high school. It was obvious, from her description, that she had dealt with the death of family members, and felt that she was on the brink of still more in the near future. Yet she has hung on, and developed an acceptance of death, something to be embraced rather than feared.
It's not often that I hear that kind of rhetoric from sixteen year old kids. Most would be whining about how "un-FAIR" death was, but this young woman squared-up and is facing death as a natural course of life, not something to deny, or be afraid of. It got me to thinking about how death has effected me, personally, and through me, my extended family. That's why I started writing this flipping blog in the first place. It started after my dad passed in April of 2009. I wrote about the day he died, and how my mom reacted to it. This was after Mary's mom's passing the previous month. I got to give two eulogies in 30 days. I was pretty shaky when Dad died, and worked some of it out on the keyboard.
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