Memento Mori

I'm guessing most people know that today is Ash Wednesday (if only because of a co-worker with "dirt" on his or her head). I won't go into the whole big background on Lent except to say that this is the 40 (plus a few) days that Catholics spend time thinking about our own death and what that means.

I have had a lot of practice in this lately.

And I have to admit that there has been a huge blessing in facing death...it was the gift of getting to the place where I am not afraid to die.

Ten months ago, I couldn't have written that sentence. I don't even think I could have framed the words. I have gone on many silent retreats and one of the talks is always about facing our own death (so I had thought about it before I was ever diagnosed with cancer). After every "death talk," I would enter into a period of quiet reflection and I always came to the same conclusion: I do not want to leave my kids. They will not be ok. I am the one who loves them the best and they will suffer too much if I die, so I refuse. I would look God in the eye (I'm tempted to write "figuratively" - but in my heart - I was really looking at Him) and decide to clutch on to my husband and children.

About 5 months ago, sitting through days of chemotherapy and the subsequent sickness/separation that followed, I watched as my boys rallied and lived and took care of their lives. Even though they are only 14, 11 and 8, my boys found the help they needed and laughed with their dad and with other people about jokes I hadn't heard. Teachers and school staff made sure my boys stayed on track. Friends and neighbors who are more than friends drove the boys places and watched them and offered help and food...the boys were ok. They were more than ok...they were showing me that (although they love me and still need me) they would make it if I was not there. In some instances (especially with our 14 year old), it was better if I didn't interfere.  It's a fitting metaphor that I can not feel my fingers just yet - I needed to loosen my clutch.

And, somewhere after that realization around 5 months, I was able to look at God again and say, "I trust You. I trust that You love me and that it will be ok either way." And I really meant it.

Memento Mori is Latin for "remember your death." It is important to look at our shared inevitable fate. We are going to die. I might die sooner than you, but "it's there" (When Harry Met Sally). It's incredible to me that I am at a place where I am not afraid to cross over into what is unknown. I believe in and trust in the One who is there.

But this begs the question...what next? I am spending this Lent asking what I'm supposed to do now that it looks like I'm staying for awhile.

I am working on "Memento Vivere" - Remembering to live.

So, In case anyone is interested, these are the books I'm reading during Lent:

 Remember Your Death: Memento Mori 

The Way of Trust and Love 

 And these are the pictures I'm using on my Home and Lock Screen of my phone. I think if you click on them you can download them. Or find them here (40 Days of Devotion) - there is also a Lent Spotify playlist on the 40 days site (so cool for prayer):

...Lastly, thanks for reading, Karen. I am so grateful for your prayers. B