Death

I remember as a child & teenager struggling with the permanence of death. I found it very difficult to comprehend that someone I knew & loved was just gone (something I'm sure many people struggle with). I could see them in my mind, talking, laughing, in their familiar surroundings, doing something they did every day, & I couldn't comprehend that they would never do that again. While it was a struggle for me to imagine not ever seeing them again, it was even harder to comprehend that they no longer existed at all.  That my babysitter Christie wasn't just at home or school, that my Uncle Hal wasn't sitting in his chair watching Murder She Wrote, that Bill Bailey wasn't walking briskly down the street or telling silly jokes with that crooked smile on his face. And I always assumed that I would be better able to comprehend the permanence of death when I was an adult.

Nope. It's not any easier now.

This past week, a member of our Keystone church community died. Tom was a quirky, friendly guy who was there most Sundays, saying hello & sharing a smile with one & all. He got immense joy out of seeing Blake & would constantly talk & make faces, telling him that he was the second cutest baby in the world, his 9-month old grandson being first of course. We had a lovely service for him yesterday, gathering together to remember his life & passions. And just like when I was a child, I can't imagine that Tom will never again greet people coming through the doors of Keystone. He will never again serve food to the homeless or to the shoppers at the Festival of Hope deli. He will never again tickle a baby or look for birds at Carkeek Park. But we will always remember him doing these things & in our way, we will continue them in his memory. And, as Tom often prayed, we will work to build a world worthy of the children.