By Leo Babauta

As I write this, my grandmother is dying. She’s taking her last breaths today, and I was able to tell her I love her for one last time.

I’m sad, of course, but what I’m really present to right now is that I’m at peace with her dying, and that her death is something to be honored, just as she was honored in her life.

Death is an important part of life, and most of us fear it or don’t want to think about it. But why can’t it be as beautiful and celebrated as the birth, or any other big milestones in our lives?

What I honor about my grandmother’s death:

• She lived for 96 years — through the Great Depression, World War II, the Cold War, the Internet explosion, a pandemic — but was able to leave before the robots took over.

• She leaves behind a thriving family of 7 kids, dozens of grandkids and great-grandkids, all of whom she loved and nurtured.

• Her death is a release from suffering — the last few years haven’t been easy for her, and she’s been ready to go.

• She lives on in each of us, in her humor and love and permission to laugh at herself.

• Her leaving us opens a new chapter in our lives, where we learn to be who we will become next.

• Her death is a reminder to me to be present, to love without bounds, to see the preciousness in life.

These are the gifts of death. Thank you, Grandma, for your incredible love.