Life Goes On ™️

It’s getting closer to my 69th birthday, which is this Tuesday. I will be the same age as Mark was when he died. Sadly, I finally caught up to him. Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about death, mortality, whether a higher power exists, and the soul.  I began wondering about death when I was almost old enough to understand it. My first experience with death was my father’s mother dying when I was very young. I only recall her not being much of a grandmother to me. I remember my Uncle Fintz dying of a brain tumor in his mid-forties; I can always picture him smiling at me so lovingly a few weeks before he died. He was the youngest of my mother’s six brothers and her best friend, only two years older than she was. I was not allowed to go to the funeral because I was a child, only 10, so I stayed at home watching my grandmother weep inconsolably for her child.  I couldn’t bear the thought of my cousin, Jane, who was my age, not having her father anymore. This made me imagine my own...