Blog #96; A Meditation on Death; Elegy for My Cousin, Catherine Kelly

I have been very depressed lately, starting two days ago when I found out that my cousin Catherine passed away.  She and I were on parallel courses for a long time, having been born less than one week apart.  She was actually my second cousin, daughter of one of my father's first cousins.  Catherine is not her real name.  With the help of my father, she escaped an abusive marriage and changed her identity.  That decision probably saved her life and that of her son.  She was a good-humored, witty woman, who was fond of puns and word play.  We got along great together, and I will find in the months and years to come a big hole in my life because of her absence from this Earth.  

Her passing causes me to think about my own mortality, and how she and I are literally the same age, and I am guessing, because she struggled with diabetes related illnesses her whole life, and both of us struggled with diabetes.  But if her passing is not a wake up call for me to take better care of myself, I don't know what is.  I swim twice a week.  I do recumbent bicycling a few times a week, but I need to increase all my physical activity, and control my diet better.  I want to be around a long time for my family.

I remember Meditation 17, by John Donne, which says, roughly, all people's lives are at one with a continent, and when one of us loses his life, it detracts from the mainland.  I feel that loss tonight, Catherine's bright laughter, and sharp wit.  Such funny jokes.

My personal beliefs are along the lines of the Mormon faith, as I understand it.  When we die, we go to a kind of spirit school, where we learn spiritual lessons, and if we were not given the opportunity to learn Christ's Gospel before we die, we will there.  Then we will be re-united with our families and loved ones, and live on for eternity close to Heavenly Father.

I pray for her soul tonight, that it is at peace, and I pray her son can also find comfort from God and his friends and family.