Wake-up Gratitude

My uncle passed away the day-before. He was comatose for four days prior to his departure. In more than a way, death was liberation. And ironically, timely as well; he didn't have to suffer much.

Stepping back a bit, death should be a wake-up call for the living, a sharp stroke struck hard on the canvas of dormant awareness,- that all this is so tenuous.

We are so used to unexpecting the expected.