Randy sat across the room from me and said, “I’m going to die.”

I could only nod as my throat filled up with pressure and my eyes with tears.

We looked at each other safer now that he’d spoken the truth. As he spoke the next words, tears splashed onto his thinning cheeks and down his chin unchecked.

“I’m going to be okay – I’m going to heaven, but I’m going to miss my wife and boys.”

Sobs ripped out him as he bent his cancer filled head to his knees. I moved to sat next to him and rubbed his back.

What else can a cousin do?

Later, after we’d blown our noses and wiped our eyes, I asked him, “What would you do if you could do it all again?”

I wondered what magnificent deed or delicious adventure he might reveal. 

“I’d see more sunrises and sunsets. They’re so beautiful.”

“You mean you’d want more days?” I asked thinking a sunrise plus a sunset equaled a day.

“I guess everyone wants more days, but that’s not what I meant. I’d get up every day early enough to see the sun rise and take time to watch the sun set.”

Again, I could only nod as this simple truth washed over my aching soul. At the end of his days it wasn’t more that he yearned for – instead he wished he’d taken time to enjoy the beauty given to him in the days he’d had.

For awhile we sat in silence contemplating his end and my continuing on.

This conversation took place over fifteen years ago. Not long after, Randy entered the final phase of his life and  passed from here to there.

I got up early today with the help of our puppies and the smell of Jon brewing freshly ground coffee in time to watch radiance wash away nighttime’s midnight blue. Tonight, I watched the sky go from summer sky blue to pink and tangerine.

As I took my first sip of coffee, I raised my cup to the sun. “This one’s for you Randy.”

I haven’t seen all the sunrises and sunsets since Randy’s departure for heaven, but I’ve seen more than I would have without this beautiful word legacy he gave me in that quiet moment.

I’m 51 years old which doesn’t exactly seem elderly or even classify me as “older.” Okay, my body doesn’t work quite the same sometimes and I need my bifocals and many days I know I’m a bit over 50 without thinking about it.

The hardest thing about this time in life so far isn’t the aches in my body. It’s the way my heart hurts when a friend dies. In the last three months, 3 people in my life went to Heaven.

Nancy and I have known each other a long time – she was a little friend and fit nicely under my arm sort of like a little girl although she was around my age. She always had a smile for me, a hug, and a kid update – her daughter Megan is dear to my heart and I often kept in touch with the daughter via the mom. I miss Nancy.

Robert seemed to leave suddenly although he’d been sick awhile. I hadn’t seen him for awhile – his daughter is a dear friend and I kept in touch with Robert via her. He was only about 10 years older than I am and that seems young these days. Robert loved to talk about the deep things of life – usually God or politics. I am sad we won’t have any more talks and well, I miss Robert.

Peggy – dear shining Peggy. Really – this friend shone grace all over everyone who came into contact with her. She gave great hugs and godly wisdom when invited to do so. Her honesty and courage blessed me deeply but it was mostly her genuine acceptance of me – just as I am – I will miss most. She hugged me right where I was and the wisdom didn’t come out of her until I asked for it. Wished I’d have asked more often. I really miss Peggy.

All three are in Heaven. You might wonder how I know this…well, their heavenly destination was decided in their hearts before the left.

Were they good people? Yes, but it’s more than that.

Did they do good things? Lots of good things, but again, it’s more than that.

They believed Jesus was and is who He said He was and is. They accepted His payment of grace – the pardon He paid for on their behalf . . . and mine.

As I write this next part, the lump in my throat grows bigger and it’s a lot harder to swallow. I have another precious friend named Linda who is battling the same disease they had while on earth: cancer. I wish you could see her – she’s incredibly beautiful. And oh how she believes! I look at her closely and pray in my heart: please God not now! Linda won’t leave for her heavenly home until exactly the right time – it’s just that sometimes His time and mine are different.

My dad has cancer too but for right now, he’s doing very well. My mom has a fragile heart and lungs and for the first time in my life and hers, she can’t garden. Jon’s folks are doing good but time marches on – they are in their 80s so we know our time is limited with our parents we both love so very much.

Who said 50 was golden? Aging parents and dying friends is golden? Really – it’s just plain hard.

And yet…there’s this believing thing. I have it too. Jesus is who He said He is.

I know…

Jesus is God’s one and only Son.

He is the Way, the Truth, and the Life. No one gets to know the Father except through Him.

Salvation is God’s grace offered to us individually. We are saved by faith in Jesus.

I’m a sinner – we all are . . . but the gift of God is eternal life in Jesus Christ. I am forgiven!

Oh how I miss my friends! I miss them for their families and for me. No more time with them this side of the great eternal divide.

As far as I know, it’s not my time yet.

Until it is, I will believe and grieve and it will sometimes be harder than I can conceive. But, I know that in the eternal long run – it will be far more glorious than I can imagine.