I keep thinking in snippets and phrases this weekend. Saturday, we attended the funeral of a beautiful woman who was the sister of a dear friend of ours. Married and only a few months older than me, she recently lost a very surprising and very fast battle with Melanoma and slipped into the night. She was the kind of woman I hoped to make a true friend. A big, gummy smile, soft eyes with a glean and stories and plans for adventure. Her service was hard. Hard because she was only 27. Hard because she was married to her young love. Hard because she was someone's daughter and sister and wife and hadn't yet the chance to be someone's mother. Hard because death is painful, and confusing and maddening. Hard because I miss my Nana and she too had a beautiful, warm smile she wore all the time.
At the end of Christina's service one of the pastors gave a prayer of Thanksgiving in closing. He spoke of giving thanks for the moments we were given by her: road trips. the perfect cup of coffee, late night conversations, her first word, first step, first days of school and every Christmas morning. Every moment spent with Jacob...He went on, but there I'm stuck; the words playing like an audio loop. I spent last night re-watching Nana's memorial service and meditating on the words that have stuck with me there too this last month. Like how we felt she was "love personified." What am I? What story am I telling with the way I live my life? Am I counting the moments? Am I ever thankful? Thankful for Maeve's exhausting requests to nap with me because she won't always want to snuggle? Thankful for even the most uneventful moments with Adam, even if it's just chatter about our day during a bath? Thankful for the opportunity to pass on my passion to those in my community? Thankful for family and friends and family who are friends and friends who are practically family? Am I really thankful for my moments? Are you? Are you love personafied, grateful for the moments your "dear friend" Jesus has shared with you?