Death puts Life in perspective

The last couple of weeks have been a bit stressful. . . James's job ending, the job hunt, Kyle's grades, trying to coordinate summer plans between all these households, Eliza's travails at school, thirteen-year-olds copping attitudes, an eighteen-year-old who really wants to be on her own, but doesn't want to at the same time, adjusting to coming of my meds, a challenging ex, etc.

Somehow, my perspective changed suddenly about 10:55 this morning. I was upstairs typing on my computer. James was out back cleaning the patio for my new gazebo. Under the sound of the mower mulching leaves, I thought I heard someone knock on the front door. Checking, I found a frantic Jeff Moss standing on my porch, asking for someone to come help with CPR.

Everything pales in comparison to the thought of waking up to find your father sprawled on the kitchen floor. And when we turned him over to start CPR, it was obvious it was too late, from the cool temperature of his body and the way the blood had drained into his face as he'd been laying on the floor.

It's not the first time I've handled a body after the spirit has left. But there is a tremendous difference between a body that has been prepared by the mortuary for the family to do the final dressing, and a body that has been laying alone on the floor for 4-6 hours. And there's a tremendous difference in what it takes to share each of those experiences with the person's child.

Somehow, those issues that seemed so significant yesterday, and demanding of attention, just don't seem to matter.

I'd started to get to that place as I heard the results of my nephew, Evan's, latest MRI. And now this.

Guess I'm getting some pretty strong messages about how good I've got it.

Please keep Evan Moss and his family and doctors in your prayers for healing, and comfort for the family and friends of James Moss. (Yes, that's right, another Moss. Some sort of cousin-just to see the family resemblance that was clear!-but I don't remember the exact relationship. His side of the family stayed in North Carolina, while my father's side left for Oklahoma a couple of generations back.)