Learning How to Die

I have alot of random thoughts inside my head right now- and I'm not sure how they all really relate. But, hey, I kind of write this blog for myself, so what does it matter if it makes no sense to anyone else?  I wrote last time about my grandma being sick- and she passed away at the beginning of this month. The events surrounding her death have truly blown me away. My family history is so long and complicated and for a long time I had given up hope that we would ever find forgiveness or healing. And my prayer for her throughout the whole experience was for her to be given the grace of a holy death. She did recieve that grace. My dad was able to stay with her the month before she died. He taught her the rosary, got her baptized, confirmed, recieving last rites and holy communion. My dad came back from Ohio a different man. He forgave his mom, and stated that taking care of her dying was "the only important thing he had ever done in his life."

These events have gotten me thinking about my own death. And how my whole life should be lived as a preparation for the gift of death. My whole life, I've never really let myself think about dying. I mean, I do, but it seems so not relevant and scary that it is easier to just ignore the reality that EVERYTHING I do should be with my death in mind. My dad said that dying was "the best thing my grandma ever did in her life." I want people to say that about me. But more so, I want my life to reflect that I believe in dying.

I went to Planned Parenthood of the Rocky Mountains today, and was overwhelmed with the experience. I asked my grandma in heaven to pray with me for those people. I struggle so much with the "Pro-Life" movement, and how unloving it really is. All of my reflections on death have led me to the conclusion that I just want to love without holding back. Really LOVE. And somehow yelling at women through microphones with bloody baby doll parts hanging from trees just doesnt strike me as loving. I was reflecting on what I would say to a woman walking in to Planned Parenthood if I ever had a chance to, and I realized the only thing I would want to say is that she is loved. Really loved. Regardless of the decision that she makes- God wants to LOVE her.

Last weekend I went camping with a few of my friends. I don't know why I am so surprised when God chooses to spoil me. Everything about the trip seemed perfectly designed to show me how loved I am. We got there late on Saturday and all of the camping spots were full- until we prayed and God gave us a spot. We went hiking and prayed and drove through the mountains in peace. Then it started POURING down rain, which I LOVE. Everything seemed perfectly designed for REST.  I wanted my weekend to teach me how to love deeper, and that is truely what I experienced. There is something so beautiful about just letting go of myself to actually love other people the way that they deserve- regardless of how they love me back.

Lord, teach me how to love. Teach me how to live. Teach me how to die.