For several reasons my attention has been drawn to the fleeting and uncertain nature of life in this world. I came across this quotation from a secular writer (Sports and Crime Fiction) the other day and thought I would pass it on.
For most of us, death will not announce itself with a blare of trumpets or a roar of cannons. It will come silently, on the soft paws of a cat. It will insinuate itself, rubbing against our ankle in the midst of an ordinary moment. An uneventful dinner. A drive home from work. A sofa pushed across a floor. A slight bend to retrieve a morning newspaper tossed into a bush. And then, a faint cry, an exhale of breath, a muffled slump.
Pat Jordan, “A Ridiculous Will”