Today, I went to a memorial service for a friend.  He was eighty-five, lived a wonderful life as a doctor and had three grown and exceptional children, all of whom spoke at the service.  His wife, also a physician, spoke too, of their sixty-two years together, his humor, his caring, his interests and their marriage.

Tomorrow, Sunday, I am going to the birthday party of a friend, he is seventy-five.  This winter he had a hip replacement, followed by a coronary attack two days later.  But now he is alive and well and celebrating this year of life and death.

This one weekend is what this life is about—the affirmation of life in the context of death.  My friends and I are living vital lives, writing books, teaching, going to theater, ballet, visiting our children and grandchildren.  But it is also clear that death is on the minds of many.  We also talk together about legacies, health proxies, and financial and ethical wills.

Life can be fragile at any age, a sudden illness, a random accident, a plane crash, a hit and run driver.  We come back again and again to the need to find some ways to talk about mortality and come to terms with this reality.  Illness and death also reinforce the idea  that life matters and each day is important.

In the years that I was bringing up my children five people died and three of them were in their twenties.  Together my family and I mourned as we found our way, searching, exploring, mourning and laughing too.  Sometimes the blessings of life get lost in the murkiness of illness and unexpected ailments.  But individually and together we try and connect with the magic and mystery of life.

Read more of Rhoada’s perspective in The Myth of the Yellow Kitchen.