My daughter said this evening, while I pretended to be a genie granting her three wishes, that she wished God would make her an angel. My reaction was that I’m not sure how God would do that, but, that it sounded nice…or something like that.
Later, while mopping the kitchen floor in anticipation of her fifth birthday party tomorrow, it hit me: the common explanation for how people become angels. That thought quickly transitioned into a sudden awareness of how fragile we all are as humans. The chain-reaction momentum quickly picked up as shivers of panic started to infiltrate my psyche and, for a moment, I pondered to the thought of losing her, like so many other parents, due to diverse and unfortunate circumstances.
It is moments like these that I realize how fortunate I am to have my wife and my children and that I become aware, more than ever, of the real and undeniable dynamic that exists between life and death: love. It is the foundation on which life is built. Denying love in the interest of self is denying life in the interest of death.
Tomorrow morning when she wakes up, we will cuddle in the big chair in the living room as usual. I will hold her close, wish her a happy birthday, and tell her that I love her.