Memento Mori

Today we met with a lawyer about our will. When we originally had it drafted it was Pre-Maggie. It was before we had her sweet little face to look at everyday. It was before we had intimate knowledge of Aperts syndrome and its effects on our baby. Today we wanted to add Maggie to the mix but I was surprised to find myself blindsided by a concept that had never occurred to me.

Over the course of two years I have had the thought come into my mind multiple times that Maggie’s life was not guaranteed to us. That surgeries, breathing issues, or heart issues could take her away. I had never stopped to realize that there was a real possibility that we could be the ones to die.

When we had the original will made up, I didn’t dwell on it much. I simply saw it as a document everyone needed; it was part of being a responsible adult, but not immediately pertinent. I knew of tragedy and young deaths but I exempted us from it.

Now our experiences with Maggie have me attuned to the fact that our wills could truly dictate the future of our kids, even as soon as tomorrow. The things stipulated in the paperwork were real possibilities. As the lawyer spoke, I felt naïve and silly for pushing off the depth of meaning. I felt scared to think of what it would be like to not raise our kids. I felt thankful for Maggie and God and the way that they make me appreciate more and more what I have right now.

There is a practice that has been in the Catholic Church since the Middle Ages called memento mori. It is the practice of remembering your own death. It can sound morbid when ones usual daily ritual regards contemplating the next thing to come in the day/week/month/year. Yet, the aim or goal of the practice is to encourage a person to be more ordered in their daily life by living in accordance with how they want things at the moment of their death.

Today, I had a memento mori and I was confronted with fear. I was also confronted with truth and a push to be smart, pragmatic, and to place our children in God’s hands. It also makes me desperately want to be a saint.

Jesus, please have mercy on me and at the moment of my death allow me to go quickly to your side. Let me go there so I can then intercede and help my kids. Let this beautiful gift and vocation of motherhood never end until all my babies are in heaven.

A gift for following along with our journey…