How Then Shall We Live is the name of a book recommended to me by a chaplain friend when my dad was near the end of his life in 2007. The author asks four simple questions: Who am I? What do I love? How shall I live, knowing I will die? What is my gift to the family of the earth? I’ve been thinking about this book lately and asking myself those same four questions. We typically don’t like to think about death, much less discuss it with others. I had the honor of being with my father-in-law at the time of his passing. During the last conversation we had, he shared that he had no regrets about his life. He was ready. He was at peace. It was still hard to say goodbye. Death is never easy and sometimes difficult to understand. At times, I find myself asking God why? Perhaps the better question to ask is how do we honor and remember those we loved so dearly? 

A dear friend passed away a few weeks ago. Zena had a way about her that made me instantly adore her. I just haven’t met many others that made people feel so genuinely loved, supported and encouraged. Her passing has hit me especially hard. I do take comfort in the fact that she was doing what she absolutely loved, which was loving others, children in an orphanage in Bolivia. 

We worked together at Moore Norman Technology Center, served on the Norman Park Board and put our heads, hearts and hands together on numerous community projects. Hands down, she was the best teacher and inspired me to become a teacher at OU. She set the bar high for her students and did everything within her power to help them achieve. She made my job as the marketing director easy. Her classes almost always had a waiting list. Her greatest skill though was as a bread baker. I always envied her abilities to bring yeast to its true purpose. She never met a stranger and poured kindness out by the buckets. The last time I saw her was at Lions Park for an outdoor concert a few years ago. There’s almost nothing better than a bigtime Zena hug. That and her way of making you feel like the most important person on this earth.

Born in Cairo, Egypt, her view of the world and the importance of understanding culture still sticks with me. I also have a piece of artwork in my living room that was a gift from her. I’m looking at it now and thinking about my warrior friend and how many battles she won in her lifetime. She was the original Warrior Princess! Her presence feels so close, I hear her calling me “pretty lady” and I can see that beautiful smile. 

Sadly, I didn’t get to attend her memorial because of an oncology appointment back in Santa Fe. I’m certain my friends who attended were filled with both sadness and joy. Her memory and legacy will live on forever even though she is physically gone from this world. Death doesn’t get the last word. Our memories of her do.

Loss is hard. Even when wonderful memories do fill us, it just doesn’t get easier. I’ve been thinking about the best way for me to personally honor her. A devotional I read this week came with the reminder of how important it is to fully live, to be alive in all that we do. It’s too easy to get in a rut and caught up in the mundane of everyday life but we shouldn’t. If Zena were here, I know she would be remining us to be joyful in all we do, and to spread love as far and wide as we can. 

With Spring approaching and Easter almost here, new life is everywhere. Each new bloom will give me the chance to stop and really notice, to praise God for all the goodness and smile thinking of Zena. After all, life isn’t a dress rehearsal. Make every moment count! 

Somebody should tell us, right at the start of our lives, that we are dying. Then we might live life to the limit, every minute of every day. Do it! I say. Whatever you want to do, do it now! There are only so many tomorrows.

Pope Paul VI