"No person ever died who had a family." - Ray Bradbury

Today I stood in a standing-room-only church and watched as another one of my best friends said good-bye to her dad.  I thought, we are too young for this.  I thought, what if it was me in the black dress following a casket down an aisle?  

At funerals, as well as at weddings, the moment that always gets me is when the family is walking down the aisle.  When I see that teary, gorgeous bride and her dad or that teary, devastated family - no matter how well I know them - I always tear up myself, just thinking of how surreal a moment it is, either way, exquisite joy or exquisite grief.  Today the girls and I stood around, one foot rocking an infant carseat base, one hand holding another sleeping infant, four hands holding Christmas-themed travel-sized Kleenex scavenged from the bottom of my purse.  We hugged each other, on a day when hugs really count for something.

Later, I came home and kissed my girls.  Lots.  Jason came home and I was inordinately glad to see him, my husband of ten years on Friday.  Tonight, I'm newly-aware of how brief it all is and more determined to do it well.