A moment in time. In hospice care, we define “death” as simply “a moment in time.” The average American woman can expect to live for over two-and-a-half trillion moments in time, while Kathy’s life lasted a mere one-and-a-half trillion, give or take. She spent only one of those moments taking the leap from this life to the next. She likely spent about a third of them asleep. While awake, she spent billions of them doing things like being a child, growing into a young woman, and evolving into a full-fledged adult.
Billions of her moments were spent on being a daughter, a sister, a spouse, a parent, a grandparent, a niece, a cousin, and a friend. Many moments were spent on developing a career, traveling the world, living through triumphs and tragedies, giving and receiving love, and cultivating her faith to the extent that she came to know, with surety, that this two-and-a-half trillion moment excursion is a mere drop in the bucket in comparison to eternal life.
Kathy should have had another trillion moments of time, and in this, our collective moment in time that is “now” we feel cheated and hurt both for her, and for ourselves. I truly believe however that from where God stands, Kathy has satisfied her quota and has been called home. Far too soon for us, but to the beautiful soul who now rests in the crook of God’s arm, not a moment too soon. I know in my heart that she left us with God’s permission; otherwise he would have sent her back to finish her work. Kathy seemed complicated to many, and yet, on the inside lived a woman who strived for simplicity. She did not keep things to just to own them. If she needed something, she had it. If she no longer needed it, she gave it away. If she felt that she had reached a point of abundance in earthly possessions, she would seek out those in need and share them. She kept a clean and simple household, and tried to keep her relationships the same way.
She may have seemed meek and gentle most of the time, but when one of her family was threatened or hurt, her immense and powerful soul would rise from within her like a Phoenix, banish the offender, and heal her loved one. In such moments, when that powerful soul emerged, one could only feel safe, protected, healed, and awed at the power that this tiny dancer contained. When Kathy laughed, the whole world had to laugh with her; they had no choice for that beautiful sound was contagious to all. When she was funny, she was funny beyond means; I remember she once disrupted a formal family dinner with an impromptu concert, hijacking a fancy candlestick to use as a microphone. When she felt joyous, even in her middle age, she would pull the curtains in her home and dance.