All I Have Are Questions

I watched my father die last Friday. I am in terrible pain right now. I wish my Zen was strong enough to help me roll with this brutal punch to the gut, but maybe it's not supposed to be. I'm an orphan now. I'm very, very lucky to have had him for so long. I wasn't as good to him as I should have been. He was so sick this past week, and not actually conscious. But Wednesday evening I was standing over him telling him how very much I loved him, and with great, great effort he opened his eyes, looked right at me, and squeezed my hand very, very hard. I will always be so grateful to him for that if I live to be 100, which I very much doubt. He always gave, always gave, even when he had nothing to give. What did I do to deserve him?

Death is so terrifying and so much more horrible than we allow ourselves to be aware of most of the time. We keep it at arms' length as much as we can, even though it's happening all around us, and in so many parts of the world, and even this great nation, it so imposes its presence that there's no keeping your distance from it. How are we to find the strength to go on?

To all of you going through some similar pain right now, I am praying for you, in my own poor way. If you do find the strength to continue, and you find even the tiniest bit extra you can spare, please send just a little bit of it to me.