by Paul V. Johnson
I get why there has to be death. My mind gets it. It doesn’t make it any easier on my heart.
There are people I want to see again. There are people I want to meet. My hope is that I will be able to do both. At some point in this life or in the next, I hope to be able to hug my momma again. My grandma. To meet my grandpa and other grandma. Some ancestors.
Surely, death is temporary. There has got to be a restoration of things. That is my hope and that hope helps me carry on.
Look at the seasons and see what they tell us. After the death of winter comes the renewal of spring. That is what I hold onto.