The Lion's Pride vol. 1 (Fall 2013) | Page 23

20 head shakes and solemn faces. Every chance I can, I reach over and give his tiny hand a squeeze. I’m not sure why I keep doing it, but I want this baby boy to know I cared and that I was so sorry he had been taken so soon. The whole time we were preparing him, I kept thinking about how when I first started this job that I thought I’d only be burying little old ladies and little old men. The ones who had lived long and fruitful lives and who had died peacefully in their sleep at the ripe old age of ninety-eight. Unfortunately, that’s not the case. Too often I see someone come through the preparation room that’s too young. Whether the person is my age or young enough to be my child, it gets me every time. It’s not just the little old ladies and men that die; it’s people of all ages. Still, even as I write that sentence, it sounds silly. As if everyone should know that. But until you see it, it doesn’t hit you. It doesn’t seem real. And when you finally do see it, you begin to understand how truly fragile life is. The idea of death as the great equalizer isn’t just a saying; it’s a reality. One that reminds us that this life is incredibly precious and that each moment is worth celebrating, because we don’t always get second chances. TOC