Death comes to us all. Everything, every single thing, that is alive on this planet right now one day will die. There's no doubt that's a sobering thought and one that many people - very young children and grown mothers alike - find terrifying. It's no wonder we don't want to contemplate it.
We are not alive for aeons of time, we're born and live for a few, brief years, and then we're gone forever. The Anglo Saxons captured this brevity perfectly by comparing life to a bird flying from the endless darkness through a window into the sudden light, heat and noise of the mead-hall and flying straight out through another window back into the infinite darkness again.
I was up early this morning, having been unable to sleep well all night. It was 5.30am and as I fed the cats, I noticed the morning was unfurling the most magnificent sunrise. The sky was azure blue and streaked with gorgeous fiery clouds of orange, red and pink. It stopped me in my tracks and I thought, "This would, indeed, be a good time to merge with the universe". Then I went back to bed.
At 7am I received the news I had been expecting, that death had indeed arrived and it had been at 5.30am. The passing had been peaceful - a very long life lived well and the ending surrounded by family; we should all wish for such an exit.
Farewell, D - you lived long and you prospered. See you on the other side.