My daughter warned me that my 5-year-old granddaughter was asking questions about death. She let me know in advance of me driving her to school so I was “prepared.” Later that morning, when we were on our way, we talked about her sleep the night before, what she ate for breakfast, and her particular dislike of the scheduled after-school activity. Nothing about death.
As we pulled into the school parking lot, she told me that when you get old, you die, go to a beautiful place, become an angel, and grow wings.
As I looked at her through the rearview mirror, I noticed a particularly self-satisfied and certain look on her sweet face. I nodded and told her that sounded just fine with me. She kissed me goodbye, and off she went into the building. Mission accomplished.
Certainty is comforting.
In Chapter X, very few things are certain, perhaps except for our inevitable demise. What happens between now and then is filled with unknowns, variables, and possibilities. In fact, that has always been the case throughout our lives. Certainty is comforting, but those moments are elusive and rare.
Living in this phase of life challenges us in ways we never could have imagined. We need the same dogged determination to make it meaningful, purposeful, and joyful. Of that, I am certain.
