Death Comes Softly

 
When my husband died, I suddenly felt no fear.   Off I went to parts of the world yet unknown to me, traveling alone but certainly not feeling lonely.   I discovered mountain crests, forests, and coast lines far removed from the communities of men.
 
I remember one experience in particular.   It had been a long hike to the crest of a ridge that I was told offered a most spectacular view of the mountains.   As I stood gazing out at the splendor of nature’s creations, (something as yet beyond man’s control), I did not feel my 60 years old.  And, I realized how life was but a flicker in the depths of eternity.
 
Then, I started to change.  I started to notice that as I drove down some deserted road in a place little traveled by man, that it would occur to me that if I became ill, or if I had a heart attack, that no one would find me. I would die. Logically, I didn’t care much.   But, fear of the unknown, fear of a passage we call death, would soon set in and I would be immobilized.  I would stop exploring and flee for home.
 
I wondered what had caused me to change my outlook.  Was it the fact that I now had to work to get those 10,000 steps in each day?   Was it the aches and pains I felt each morning as I got up?   Or, was it the constant assault on my time to remind me I was getting old and that more and more of each day had to be spent on pills, and exercise, and diet?  With a great heaviness of heart, I reluctantly recognized the path I was being forced to take.
 
And now, Death walks beside me. He is there to help with the taking of my body that continually decays and fails me more with each day’s passing.   But, as I travel this last path, I continually find myself in awe of nature’s splendorous power.  And, I am reminded that Death has no interest in my soul.
 
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