When death circles

Death has been circling the last few days.

Last week I was reminded that tomorrow is the one year anniversary of my sweet friend Mary’s passing. This time last year I was making several trips a week across town to sit with her during her final days, as cancer did what cancer does.

It was the first time I had seen death. First time I had to watch it coming. And for the past year I have continued to see Mary’s face and am reminded of her vigor for life often.

After she passed, I remember being stunned to realize that I was almost exactly half her age. The question burned at the edges of my mind that if I only had as much time left as I’d spent, what would I do with it?

25 years is an incredibly long time to make a difference in the world.
25 years is an incredibly short time to figure out who the hell you are.

A friend of a friend died this week in a plane crash in the Aberdare mountain range. She consoled that if he were going to choose how to die, that would be the way. Yet he would be distraught that there were other people in the plane with him.

I hope when I die, I go down doing something I care about. Something that gave me life. Something that gave life to others.

Kidd Kraddick, Dallas/Fort Worth based morning talk show host died this weekend. I can’t say that I ever felt personally connected to him, but he was a constant in my life for the better part of a decade. He was a friend to anyone who had a brutal morning commute.

What I remember most about him is that he was always finding ways to help people. He would partner with different charities and foundations and give hope to his listeners that maybe, just maybe, there was a way out.

One of the street boys that my roommates work with died this weekend. It’s not my story to tell, but it’s a story that would make your head spin in circles and question many things.

I read somewhere recently that Millennials think we have all the time in the world. That we’ve been groomed to think the roller coaster is purely for fun and there’s no way we’ll ever get tossed off the ride (que bad Texas Giant joke)

So my mind is puzzling, more so than usual, on how to Love and be Loved. On how to make the biggest impact today. On how to let go of the negativity that creeps in; that enslaves me to false principles of doubt and defeat.

From the windows of our apartment on the backside of town, I often watch Nairobi carry on about its day. Men with pushcarts struggle through the street below, passing women selling vegetables. People sort through trash on the ever-growing heap across the river.

“Whoever does not love abides in death.” -Apostle John

Somehow death isn’t as painful as it used to be. I think the more I learn to accept that it’s the ugliest part of life, everything in comparison becomes brighter.

Somehow knowing that it will find all of us. Knowing there is no chance it will pass you over. Makes it easier to swallow.

And to live everyday, with this knowledge driving the motivation to present a more pure representation of Love, makes life a little easier to live.


When death circles

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