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In this life I've seen several people die.
It used to really haunt me and I would
ask God why.
The first time I was just a teen so many
years ago, I was in the middle of giving
a massage to a person I didn't know.
The man was from Vienna and before he
went with grace, he asked me to massage
the wrinkles from his face.
I thought of nitroglycerin in his locker that day
but my manager told me to hold his hand and
that help was on the way. I stood there obediently
and held this stranger's hand. He was gone quickly.
All in God's plan.
The second time in my thirties with an elder from my church, we were
driving to a movie when she began to convulse and jerk. My six year
old daughter was in the back seat, anticipating popcorn and candies 
she would eat. I wasn't trained in CPR so I tried to flag down a passerby car.
No one stopped for us and Frances lost consciousness. I drove to the hospital hoping for the best. The e.r. staff lifted her limp core, as one black pump fell
to my car's floor board. I dropped my daughter with a neighbor as her disappointment reigned and called our minister who to the hospital came. 
I returned to France's home and knocked urgently at the door. I was greeted by her slurring spouse who was inebriated once more. I shared the situation and to go to the hospital quick. He said he'd drive with his son James and didn't need my lift. 
When I arrived at the hospital, the police and my minister were there.
Frances had passed with a smile on her face, absent of worldly cares.
I answered the police inquiry and my minister and I prayed but the trauma
lingered on with me, my nerves were taut and frayed. It took some time to process the events naturally. I kept on asking God, "why me, why me?"
Finally my minister helped me to see the light when he said that I was
being used by God on that night. It's an honor to be with a person when they pass. I stopped asking God, "why me" at last..
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