2 min read
This week one of my beloved Aunties passed away. She was in her 80’s and had lived a good full life. She was a wife, mother, grandmother, great grandmother and great-great grandmother! Her health was not great, but she did go into the hospital thinking she would return home and was making arrangements for help with her care when she got home. Alas, she never made it back home. Such is life….and death.
Maybe it’s my middle age, but I am reminded this week (and lately really) that life is so delicate, fragile, precarious, tricky and scary. It gets me thinking about my own life and wondering if I am living my best life. I narrow it down to a few things…..
I’m reminded of a story that my 16-year-old daughter shared with me this morning at breakfast. She said in elementary school, she thought I was of Hispanic origin because I had dark hair, spoke Spanish and was a great cook. And then, she admitted that she probably knew I wasn’t, but she told people that anyway because it seemed more exotic. HA! The truth is I couldn’t be more Anglo-Saxon. She’s a funny kid and we get each other (most of the time).
I was trying to decide if I should attend my aunt’s funeral which is several states away and would be a 3-day adventure. Being a small business owner, I had many reasons why I could not go. But my dear partner urged me to go and that he would “take care of everything and figure it out”. With that, I will try not to feel guilty and go to the funeral. If you are in the taproom on Friday or Saturday, please give us some grace……because it may not be perfect. But it will be okay.
I leave you with this……always go to the funeral.
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