It's interesting how the death of a family member makes you think about your own mortality.  About how we were simply intended for a short stay here on earth.  How we were made for eternity.

This week my great aunt's son died.  He was found in his condo, just leaning against the wall.  He was 42.  They don't know why he died, they don't know how.  The funeral is today.

Now, I am sad that he died, and yet at the same time, I didn't know him.  We have been very close with my Great Aunt, she is like a Grandmother to me, and I think I feel more sad for her.  She's had a rough go over the past couple of years.  Losing a husband and brother to cancer, and now her son.

It's terrible, too, that we haven't been around more for her.  I could give you all kinds of excuses as to why we haven't, time, etc, etc.  And they don't really matter.  We should be there more, and we haven't.  We are going to try and remedy that in the near future.

I don't feel like I'm afraid to die.  I know where I'm going.  I'm sure of my salvation, of the fact that when I die, I will be partying it up in heaven.  I am afraid for who I would leave behind, and yet I know that my God is eternal, and that He will look after those left here on earth.

I hate funerals, who doesn't?  And yet we will go, pay our respects, and hug my Aunt Joyce, letting her know that we are here.