Vultures




I hate death.


Death is the thief in every story. It doesn’t care about timing, or who still needs who, or how much unfinished love there is. It just takes. And when you’ve already lost, losing again feels like it’s piling on for no reason.


I’m not wrong to hate death.

God hates death too.

“The last enemy to be destroyed is death.” (1 Corinthians 15:26, NIV)

“I take no pleasure in the death of anyone.” (Ezekiel 18:32, NIV)


Death steals voices.

It steals chances to say things again.

It steals people who were still doing good in the world.


What hurts extra here is that Leilani was tied to my mom’s memory. She was part of that bridge back to her. So this isn’t just one loss — it’s layered on top of the first one.

But my mother’s death does not overshadow Leilani’s. This is not only about my mom. This is about Leilani, and the life she lived.


It’s okay to say, “I hate death.”

That’s not faithlessness.

That’s love refusing to pretend this is okay.


This is not okay. Not okay for us, because it’s a loss that is hard for us to recover from. Us still left here on this plain. We’re here still feeling this pain of them being gone.


“The Lord is close to the brokenhearted

and saves those who are crushed in spirit.”

(Psalm 34:18, NIV)


For the ones who left are fine.

It’s the living who carry the weight.



Five Vultures


I feel like death has been circling me. The other day I saw five vultures on the right side of my home, along the street. I instantly felt death was near, because to me that’s what they represent. Maybe another sign?


Around that same time, I saw an article about Joe Keery in a New York magazine called Vulture. It was the first time I had ever noticed or learned about that pop culture publication. The date was the 16th — two days after she passed. That stuck with me.


I grabbed a broom from the porch and walked toward their roadside congregation to make sure it wasn’t one of my outdoor cat family that I take care of. Fortunately, it wasn’t. It was just food scraps someone had left behind.


Still, it felt like death was in the air.


I wish I could remember the exact day — I only know it was a few days ago.


I hate death.

What is it waiting for?

It’s tried taking me and missed several times.

Or am I like a mouse being played with by a cat.


I don’t know what it means — I just know it hurts.



Operating Without a Manual series where Leilani is mentioned:

https://www.amazon.com/Operating-Without-a-Manual-6-book-series/dp/B0GGLTHBQ2


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