Death is a verb

Death was all over today. It started when I threw out a toy. I never throw sentimental, or reusable things away-this was a toy we got for free from K's daycare, it had permanent marker on it but I thought she'd like it so they let us have it a year ago. It's a little pretend computer. The thing never went dead. If you so much as hit a bump in the car while driving, the thing went off. It always played "Three blind mice." Dah dah dah. Dah dah dah. I tried to leave it in someone's car sometime but they gave it back. I was going through K's toys, and found it-I had to smile but I knew it was time. Bye bye yucky permanent marker laptop. Threw it in the trash, only to hear dah dah dah. Transfered that to a larger trash bag-dah dah dah. Even as I threw the trash into the dumpster for my townhouses, I heard dah dah dah. I felt sad at that point-could this have been given to a child who needed it? I really don't think they would have enjoyed the relentless blind mice. So I tried to shut out the last strands of Three Blind Mice as I walked back to my house. RIP.
I spent the morning in an inservice for hospice patients. I met Tiff, volunteer coordinator and really fun person, my age, with a 3 y.o. She came to my home to teach me and my friend about volunteering with her organization. (I know, I don't volunteer enough already.) It lasted 3 hours but it was informative and she did a great job. It brought me back to college-powerpoint slides printed out for me, and a quiz at the end. I think I can learn a lot from her about loving hospice patients. I won't lie; they scare me. But I learned why I'm scared. These folks are at the worst point in their lives. They need help, but they might not want it. They might not even know what is going on-but I can love them in spite of themselves. K can love them with me. My desire would be once a week but we'll see. I learned about the stages of death. Who knew there were stages? 1. Denial. Patient does not believe they are terminally ill. 2. Anger. Patient is furious with this diagnosis. 3. Bargaining. Patient tries to bargain with God for something better. 4. Depression. Patient starts to realize what is happening, realizes they have no control, feels hopeless. 5. Acceptance. Patient says, this is eminent, real, part of a bigger plan. Patient is ready.
Those stages apply to all of us. Not just in our last days, but with every dream we have. I know I have seen these stages recently in my life, just the same. It's good to know that this is common. Think about your life and where you have experienced it-you'll be better prepared for future deaths.
Death occurred in another major way today, but it was a long time ago. Someone loved me so very much that He had a great plan, carried it out on this day, and I am amazed at such a sacrifice, such a clear picture of love, and am entirely thankful for His death for me-truly God-who loved me enough to do that for me-how could I not respond in love to that? What is too great in my life to keep me from focusing on that kind of love? Nothing! That is real love. It is amazingly romantic and so terribly sad at the same time.
Today I also helped put some memories to death. My friend L was finally able to move into her very own home. She's been living in a trailer for a year or more-she closed on her house yesterday and I was so glad to help her move in with her husband. A cute house-I'm jealous-with fabulous furnishings that have been in storage for months-now set free to be beautiful in her beachy Old Towne house. She will sleep in a real bed tonight, and I hope it's the first of many peaceful nights. Bye bye camper! RIP.
Some of my clothes need to be put to rest. That's another story.
Death can be a depressing topic, but I feel it is necessary and cleansing. It's part of the design for our lives. Soli deo gloria.