Woke up this morning thinking about death...

Woke up this morning thinking about death.  Sounds morbid but true.  My uncle, an active thoughtful man, died at a stop sign with his wife next to him.  Her terror must have weakened her bones.

Doesn’t take the Lion King for me to realize that we are born to die, that the gift of each day is the movement toward our last breath, but I am angry and sad.  His English lilt and gentle smile are gone from my earthly place.  This morning I am dwelling on the thought of my death.

It is also the time of year that my brother died.  Four years ago at 49 I rolled out of my bed, went to the hospital and held his hand as he took his last breath.  I often walk around the lake and speak to him silently.  I miss him.  So this morning I am thinking about death and perhaps more importantly about life and what we do in the days we have.   Uncle Dave and brother Mark are dead.  Today I walk the dogs as the geese squawk.

TJS 2012