Tina, Jason, and Julie
As I was telling my family of the happy news that we are expecting our third child to my family and friends last week, my best friend was unknowingly about to go through one of the worst times in her life.
We had a wonderful thanksgiving... topped off with a hayride out on my dad's 800 acre farm. It was beautiful with the leaves falling down and all of the gorgeous autumn colors... my family all around me... my aunts telling stories of when they were little. We saw several deer frollicking about. I was smiling to myself thinking that life had rarely been better. Rubbing my tiny little pouch that has already started to form to protect the fragile life inside it.
Thanksgiving was over and we headed back to Denton. Saturday night I received a phone call from my best friend Tina telling me that her brother, Jason, was shot and killed in a hunting accident. She was in shock... I was in shock... she has been my best friend since the 7th grade. Her family is like a second family to me.
Tuesday Jeremy and I started the trek back to Paris. This time we weren't really in the mood for celebrating. We were going for a funeral. I was so very upset - mourning the loss of Jason as a person and also a daddy for his two little girls and a husband for his wife, a brother for his sisters, and a son for his parents.
What a dichotomy from just a few short days before. But, as I was sitting through his funeral I started thinking...
Isn't death really a celebration of life?
When I die, I would like it to be a celebration of what I have accomplished here on earth but most of all the party to follow in heaven!
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