The following is something my wife Sarah wrote today, and it brilliantly illustrates what is on my mind.  I probably could not have written this today, but wanted to share her words.

From Sarah's Blog Today, March 8:

Eighteen years ago today, my husband's father died.

It started out like any other day. Phil was a junior in high school, the only child of two incredibly loving parents. Phil's dad, Ed, was the senior pastor at a large, thriving and growing church in Tucson, Arizona. His mom was just about as sweet and kind as anyone you've ever met.

Mom & Dad were in Seattle for a couple of days, teaching at a church where they had many friends, and had lived before. Phil stayed in Tucson. It was a Sunday afternoon. Phil got a phone call from someone his family knew in Seattle. Ed had been in a pretty bad car accident.

Phil headed out to church, where the Sunday evening service would shortly begin. The exact details are blurry to my husband, but he headed home, along with his youth pastor and a couple of friends, to begin packing. Phil was going to go up to Seattle to be with his parents.

About that time, a few of the elders of the church came into Phil's room to deliver the word: Ed had passed away.

Time seems to stop.

Life as we know it, permanently altered.

Questions to this day, 18 years later, remain: What If? What would Phil be like, had his dad lived? Not to mention Phil's mom (who joined her husband about 4 years ago, leaving my dear husband an orphan at 30), the church, the world . . . ?

Phil had a professor in seminary who said, "Life is inherently tragic." Really. Without trying to be morbid or woe-is-me or fatalistic or glum, it's really true. We all experience loss, and the loss of our own lives will cause others to experience the depth of pain.

Life is 100% fatal.

Today, the truth of that inspires me to make this day, this moment, matter. The more keenly felt the loss, the more powerful and rich and full and ALIVE, the life, right?

I'm grateful for Phil's dad. Although I never met him, I see his impact on my husband. I see echos of Ed's faith and love and grace, I feel deeply the loss, this many years later, and I am grateful.