Of Life and Death

The man who played piano at our church passed away last night after a brief illness.

I remarked on facebook that saying he could play the piano was like saying a Siberian Tiger was a kitty. He had the kind of talent folks are born with - he sort of became one with the piano.

I sing, and if I was having trouble with a note or a key or timing or whatever, he'd say, "Well, don't worry about it. We'll work it out and I'll cover for you if you need me to."

And he always did. It was as though he knew what you were doing before you did it.

He was always complimentary, telling me what a good job I had done after it was over.

His passing leaves a  big hole in our church. The piano has stood silent as a testament to his absence. It makes me very sad.

How will his wife of fifty-two years go on? She will have to learn a completely new way of living. And that scares me to think about having to do that myself, as we never know what the future holds.

The flip side, and I think there always is one, is our Pastor became a grandfather, also last night. I've seen the pictures of the new baby; she looks healthy and fiesty.

It gives me joy to know how happy and excited they are.

So, I've had sorrow and joy side by side today.

A life gone Home, a new life arriving.

Who knows? Maybe she'll play the piano.