The Dying Season

It's the dying season.

This time of year seems to me to be about the toughest for those who are wavering in terms of health. Pneumonia is more common, the flu rages rampant among us, the sniffles, sneezes, coughs, etc., create a cacophany of sound that is barely even heard since it is constant. It becomes like white noise in the background almost. Many friends go on antibiotics, houses become quarantined, visiting is perhaps at a low as we wait for various bugs to remove themselves from our environments.

Last year, my Aunt Ellie (one of my father's sisters), 69 years old, died right around this time of a massive stroke, and my mom was diagnosed with lung cancer. Mom passed away in April. About a week ago, my Aunt Joyce (my father's oldest sister) passed away from pneumonia at the age of 78 years. I went to a funeral yesterday of a 92 year old woman named Sybil Bunting.

It's the dying season.

Sybil had a wonderfully attended celebration and the speakers and tributes and music were all wonderful to me. Walking in, I was pretty confident that I would not cry. As soon as I began looking at pictures, though, I got teary-eyed. And after the very first tribute, the tears poured out. I felt ridiculous, like I looked like a fool. Hardly anyone there even knew me, and I was using up tissue already. But, it touches my heart when I hear about the impact someone has made on another's life. We go through our days, touching hearts, touching lives, touching people, and yet, I don't think we always have a sense of our own impact. And with the love of Jesus Christ in us, we can have an impact beyond our own comprehension even. Sybil had that love of Jesus Christ. I met her only once, but I knew I would never forget her or her husband Ken.

My Aunt Joyce is not having a celebration or memorial or funeral until sometime in the Spring. I'm not positive where my aunt stood with the Lord, but I pray she was right with Him upon passing away. Joyce made some very tough choices in her early years, and it often seemed like her consequences were never finished. I think she was married possibly 3 times, and I don't believe she was ever treated as a woman should be treated. She lead a very hard life at times. She worked pretty much full-time up until this last year, with the past decade of work being done in a shelter or home or agency to help battered women. I am sure she touched many women's lives in a very positive way and I thank God for her presence in my life.

As each of these impactful women leave my physical world, I reflect on this season of dying and hope and pray that my life is impacting someone in as positive a way as these wonderful women of a past generation.