Death Puts Life into Perspective

I went to church on New Year’s Day at the nagging of my Inner Voice. I hadn’t been to church in years, not because I didn’t believe in God. I was just tired of the hypocrisy.

In my pre-divorced life, I attended many “Watch” Midnight Services with my former husband and left church feeling tired and often unfulfilled. Living with someone who didn’t love you for 27 years can have that effect.

The pastor preached about a season of “restoration,” which struck a personal chord as I thought about the passing of my beloved cousin, Debbie, wondering if I would ever feel restored. And when we took communion, I realized that I hadn’t received the blood and body of Christ for years. Why now?

I left the service feeling pretty much the same as I entered. No bolt of lightning with profound revelations. No “aha” moments. I observed people who looked like me. But did they hurt like me? Did they recently lose a loved one?

I was four years old when my cousin Debbie made her grand entrance into the world, and I have loved her ever since. We were the eldest daughters of our mothers, my mom, the eldest sister, and her mom, the youngest.

Debbie and I grew up in the projects, first in Brooklyn and then the Bronx. Although life took us down different paths, I always loved her, and she reciprocated that love…