Sitting in the pew at the funeral of my aunt, an unexpected and dismal thought came into my mind.

We strive our whole lives, and when our lives are over, all that is left is our body in a small pine box.

Then I realized that was death talking. Death, known for being fatalistic, talks that way.

And I realized death was right, at least in a small way. When life leaves, a body can be contained in a pine box.

But as I continued to look around, Life spoke. (Life sees more than death ever could.) Life said to me, ‘I am everywhere. I am filling this place.’

As my eyes gazed across the aisle to my cousins, I realized Life was right. Life knew about such things because Life was the cousin of Love, and Love is the best part of Life.

Love doesn’t die.

Love continues to live through the lives left behind.

My cousins might not know it yet. The ways that their mother is and will always be with them. Death throws a shadow on that. But as their new Life emerges, Love makes itself known.

Their mother’s body, the thing that represented her in this life on earth, is no more. But her love! No box, no matter how large, could contain it. Her love is infused into each of them. At a cellular level, she can never be taken from them. She will never leave them. And on a really good day, they may even glimpse her in each other.

I thanked Life for speaking up. For not letting death have the last word. For reminding me that the sadness that comes with death can temporarily blur our ability to see how Love could still be present when the life we loved has ended. I thanked Life for tenaciously ensuring that the Love that remains continues to be seen, felt, heard, and discovered in new ways.

Love is immune to death. But Life is not immune to Love. Once a life is given Love, that gift can never be taken away. It is ours forever.