We live in a death-denying culture and most of us would prefer not to think about death and dying. We shove it out of our minds, speak about it only in muffled tones, and keep it at a great distance. But not to think of death is not very smart because we all have a date with it.

My good friend, Rev. Ward Tanneberg writes a blog titled, “Perspective: Living, Learning and Leading in Life’s Third Age”. In a recent blog post, he shared a story that has appeared over the years. As we prepare to celebrate Easter, I thought it would be appropriate to retell the story.

On my desk is a small, unframed piece of paper. While the edges are frayed and the once-white paper is yellowing, it provides an important focus for living my days. It reminds me of who I am and what I hope to become.

Sooner or later, everyone endures bereavement — the experience of the death of a loved one. Our emotional response to bereavement is grief, a personal experience whose duration and depth can vary from individual to individual. Some people recover quickly from a loss and move on. Other people grieve intensely for a short period before finding peace while other individuals feel profound grief for years.

As a child, I had freckles on my nose and cheeks. My body was not covered in freckles like some of my childhood friends, but I didn’t like that I had freckles anywhere on my body. My distain for my freckles was well known to my family.