My aunt's mother died yesterday.
This seems sad. But she was ready.
She was 108 years old.
That's right. 108 years old.
And, until about a month ago, she was spry and clever and energetic. She was the life of the party and a complete darling.
She considered life a journey and she met it with her eyes and heart open.
I think my favorite picture of her was taken just a few months ago. She'd been living in an assisted living facility for the past couple years but that barely slowed her down. On the day the photo was taken, a group of motorcycle enthusiasts brought a couple of Harleys to the home and all the ladies had their pictures taken on the bike.
Some of the ladies were afraid to climb on that big ol' hog, but not Rachel. She needed help, but she got on that bike, wrapped her arms around that "young" man's waist and gave the camera a big, bright, excited smile.
I can only hope to have a life half as full and fun as hers.
So, as sad as death is, I can't bring myself to lament such a well-lived life.
Wherever Rachel is now, I'm sure she's the life of the party.
Good Journey, Rachel.