Love, Loss, & a Drunken Scotsman

Monday March 2, 2026

Retirement Day #2437

I’ve been thinking a lot about mortality lately: death, dying, loss, grief – you know – cheerful thoughts of spring. Ever since covid, I seem to find myself attending a funeral/memorial/celebration of life nearly every month. Part of this is due to age – in my late 60s, with a husband in his mid-70s, means that those we have known the longest are starting to keel over.

But last Wednesday I heard the tragic news that a young woman who was a Hope College dance alum, a wife, teacher and dancer, had passed away “…. from a sudden illness.” And on Friday I received the news that a [younger] colleague at Hope College collapsed while teaching and died of cardiac arrest. WTF?

I know I know- we are ALL “terminal” – “it’s not if, it’s when” blahblahblah.

But when young ones die, the Universe must have erred, right?

Some years back, after the unexpected death of a vibrant dance alum in her twenties, I was completely pissed. I chuffed at God, chucked Bibles, screamed – this death felt so wrong.

That night, I had a dream [OK- heard that collective groan- I promise to be brief]:

I was transported to a remote desert where I met God, who was a scraggly, drunken, rude old Scotsman with thinning dishwater blond/gray hair, an ancient scruffy face and piercing blue shards for eyes. His wore shabby clothes, had rotting-fish breath, unkempt scrubby brown leather boots, and was NOT warm and fuzzy in any way.  He was absolute: everything that has been, is, ever will be or has ever thought to be – he was it, and it was all. He was oblivious to the pain and suffering of the world - his great webbed light caught everyone when their time came. His love and presence were complete, unconditional, and weirdly indifferent. He wanted me to follow him. I refused – I was so furious that he’d taken from Earth a bright, beautiful, talented young woman on the verge of making our world better. I couldn’t understand why she had to die? No fair! He snorted with annoyed derision, then gave me a kind of telescope/astrolabe through which I could view the future. I saw epic disasters and tragic personal events unfold, and wept. Putting the telescope / astrolabe aside, I asked him, “if I follow you will this change?” His telepathic answer: No. And it made no difference to him if I followed him or not – but, he pointed out- it would make a difference to me. By following him, I would learn how to truly love – and that’s the difference. I couldn’t change that which was to be, but I could love, help, and comfort. Like the moon reflects the sun, I could offer a wee light in my own way.

So I sighed: “ok.” I still grieve, rant, and struggle with loss – then re-commit: "So in everything, do to others what you would have them do to you." -Matthew 7:12 

Because love is the answer, my friend. A drunken Scotsman told me so.

because you just never know what could come down on the path ahead.....