"To everything there is a season, and a purpose to everything under heaven. A time to be born, and a time to die . . . a time to mourn and a time to dance." Ecclesiastes 3: 1-2, 4

I remember thinking when my grandfather died, why is the world unchanged? Everyone just keeps on going and living and doing. As a hospice nurse I tried to remember that experience and hallow a special time in remembrance of each patient when they died. Today, I felt that way when my grandmother died. It just sucks, you know? It seems so neat and orderly, in Ecclesiastes. What isn't mentioned is that while it's my grandmother's season to die and my season to morn, its a season to dance for the couple who are buying our home, or a season to laugh for the other moms at the Y where my daughter takes swimming lessons, or a season to plant for my neighbor, etc, etc, etc. These messy seasons encroaching in on my season to morn, to weep. I suppose that is how I will get to the season to heal, to mend, and yes, to laugh.

Today, though, it sucks.

I love you Gramma.

Good bye.