Life as I knew it...

To say my childhood was "normal" would be quite the understatement. I was born here in Florida but my dad was transferred to New Jersey when I was about 2. We lived there for a few years and then in New York until we moved back to Florida when I was 5. We moved quite often until my parents bought a house in Orlando when I was in the 4th grade. That is where we stayed until I finished high school.

I was the youngest of 5 children but there are 11 years separating my sister and me. Consequently, except for the times when a sibling moved home for a time, I was raised as an only child. As the youngest, I was in a few weddings. My sister married when I was about 12 and my brother married when I was 14.

My brother was married not quite two years when they found out his wife had cancer. I remember that they moved home quickly after her diagnosis. She was close to my mom and wanted to be near my parents. She had a sweet temperament and a loving spirit. I don't think I know all the details but here is what I remember.

She came home and was severely depressed because she knew her diagnosis was terminal. She did not eat and lost weight quickly. I remember that we found out about her cancer in October. By the beginning of December, she was at the end. I remember the tense atmosphere and the hospice nurse. I remember the day my dad came to get me at school because she had passed away.

Just the other day, I learned that another dear woman passed away. Once again, her illness came quick and took her fast. It always amazes me how quickly memories come back when faced with a similar situation. They are not visual memories as much as they are emotional ones. I remember how I felt.

The one that has lingered has been fear. Fear that death could occur so quickly. It is not a fear of death. A quick, painless death does not scare me. It is the knowledge of impending death that causes angst. It is the fear that I won't have time to accept it. Or rather, that my family won't have time to accept it. It is a fear that I will still be in the anger stage or depressed stage when I can no longer communicate my love for them. It is a fear that my last words may not be loving. Of course, that fear comes with anything. I avoid it by trying so hard to watch my words. Sometimes I fail and I am anxious until I see that person again. So I guess the fear is that someone may die or I may die and those I love won't know how much I love them.

Today, I will strive to let my words and especially my actions speak love. I will remember that the words of Jesus and especially his actions spoke the ultimate love for me and for you!