Written By Lizabeth Armbruster on September 19th, 2009
At what point in your life do you start wondering if you'll still be around for your next birthday?
Is it when you hear the doctor say the word 'cancer'?
Is it when you start 'getting up there' in age?
Is it when a guy in your office dies unexpectedly of a heart attack at 50?
I don't mean to spread gloom and doom. I'm not trying to be morbid. It's just something that's been on my mind. At what point in your life do you realize that any upcoming birthdays may be limited in number?
I have an aunt that I visited with recently. She told me that she'll be 91 on her next birthday. Obviously, she plans to be around for it. But is she planning on being here in 5 years? 10? She must certainly know that her time is limited.
I have a friend who recieved a diagnosis of cancer last year. At the time, she was 54. It was pronounced 'very aggressive' and needed immediate treatment. Did she wonder if she'd be here for her 55th? (By the way, she underwent the aggressive treatment and is doing great!)
A man I know at church just underwent a quadruple by-pass. He is probably in his late 50's early 60's. Did he wonder if he'd make it through the surgery?
I turned 51 this year. I realize that to some of you that's fairly young. (Though some of you probably think it's pretty old, too!) I, myself, think that 51 is young. Then I remember that my mother was only 2 years older than I am now when she died of cancer. And that makes me feel old. I consider how quickly the years have flown. And wonder what I've done with them. I remember some of them quite clearly....others not so much. And I realize that my time is limited. I'm pretty sure that I have at least another good 30 years or so. Maybe even 40. But I know I'm on the downhill side of the slope.
(This post was written by my mother exactly 10 days before she passed away. I found it as a draft, and decided to post it for her, for all of you. I think the Lord prepares us for things we don't see coming, in ways that we never realize until we look back upon them. I'm greatful that she had written this, and hope that it provides as much comfort for you as it has for me.
Much love, Mary)