Carpe diem!

A sermon from beyond reminds Karin Brynard to live life to the fullest and finish it with grace.

I started getting ready, sluggish from the smothering heat. Pushed a comb through my hair and searched for the coolest dress to wear. Why, oh why, was I bothering, I asked myself. I hardly knew the oom. But then again, he was kind to my mother when she was alive. They lived in the same old age home. And often, when the dementia upset her, the oom looked out for her, guiding her back when she got lost or finding lost things for her.

At the historic Moederkerk in town, the heat was dancing in the road, the sun relentless, striking at the windows of the cars squeezed in like sardines in front of the old NG Church.

A big black hearse was parked in front, coffin in the back under a huge wreath of arums, a pearly glow. Two white-gloved undertakers were gently rolling the casket out as I arrived.

At the second toll of the bell, I followed them up the steps of the lovely old neo-Gothic building – blindingly white and spiky with its pointed little turrets and slender tower.