This morning, I'm heading to a funeral for Soren's former preschool teacher. Since her death early last week, I can't seem to get her out of my mind. She wasn't that old (60) and died suddenly. It sounds selfish, but I feel as if a part of my past has died, a part of my son's childhood, which I suppose it has.
Death is on my mind each day, but not necessarily in a morbid sense. I want to keep it close to me, to guide me in savoring this life and these moments I have with my family and friends. It's hard to live with sometimes, but I'm hoping that its presence makes this life richer and more fully inhabited by me.