Wednesday, April 6, 2005
Death
It is in living that we march slowly towards the finish line that we all face and it is in the small moments that our life actually lingers. At middle age I find that I have experienced the loss of enough significant loved ones to have an opinion about the end of days but fear that it may not strike the cord. My family is one of great fun and most of us consistently joke about wanting to be at our own wake, you know, just to see who says what, who drinks what and who gets really, really drunk. Having planned a funeral I realize that it is a balm to those who must fulfill the obligation but, like some balms, the healing stings.
Flash backwards to 1998 with me.... to Gil's funeral. After all the trauma of preparing for the last party in his honor it is the small moments that I remember most clearly. Like the fact that a cowboy clad mortician arrived at our apartment to take him to Green Acers and how fitting that was since I buried him in cowboy clothes. Or the fact that right after he died his ex-wife told me that she finally understood why he fell in love with me and left her. Or how about the fact the he tried hard to take his green recliner with him to heaven, he thought he’d need it there.
What I remember the most is how painful it was helping a 35 year old man come to terms with the end of life and how different it might be for someone older to reach that same level of peace. I remember his mourning of the chances he was losing and the regrets that he died with. His early death made me know that I will live my life fully…grasping at joy with every chance. His losses oddly gave me hope that I have more than enough time and my faith offers the assurance of something more. (My faith offers that to all because I do not have the only hall pass.)
Death is not the end but the beginning of a grand adventure if, like John Paul II, one accepts God’s ultimate answer. The way is clear and brightly lit. A life well lived is not only a gift to God but a blessing to those you have touched, for in living well and honestly, there is a peace shared that may last for generations. The moral obligation is to achieve that level of love.
ckays1967 at 11:26:00 PM PDT Link to this entry
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This entry has 9 comments: (Add your own)
ReplyDeleteVery beautiful! Lisa
Comment from cw2smom - 4/17/05 7:57 PM
I really relate to everything you said. As I approach 50 (my next birthday in January) I think about my own death. You can't help but count the years you may (or may not) have left. I haven't been coming to your journal very long--who is Gil?
Comment from theresarrt7 - 4/16/05 9:35 PM
I know that need to grasp every bit of joy I can. I savour each and every little good thing that passes my way. It is an attitude I respect and recomment highly for all. I love your journal way.
Mariann
Comment from edandmariann - 4/16/05 4:41 AM
Beautiful! It is very interesting to see people's different perspectives on death. Some hardly speak of it and some speak of it easily. I, too, believe that death is the beginning of something grand. May my life and my joy show this. xox
Comment from valphish - 4/13/05 10:15 AM
Beautiful, chris.
V
Comment from deabvt - 4/9/05 8:19 AM
My greatest pain was watching my 31 year old son prepare his mother for his death. Kevin was ready, I was not and I'm still not. The road to acceptance is paved with much struggle and suffering but oh what joy when we finally achieve it. Your last paragraph says it best...prayers, gloria
Comment from gbgoglo - 4/9/05 5:51 AM
Funny you should write about death and me just turning 62 yesterday:) But I do try to live each day as if it were my last. Steve often talks about my dying first and what would become of him then. He would manage and manage well but I am what makes him a more well rounded person. His whole family are very bitter and unhappy people and he has missed that because I JUST WILL NOT LET HIM be that way. He is terribly afraid that alone he would become like his Dad, and that is not anyone he admires. Sad isn't it? Remember how very much love and admiration I had (and still have) for my Mom? Just like you.
Thanks for remembering my b-day, I love you too and would miss having you in my life terribly if you left.
a
Comment from dallas0406 - 4/7/05 2:10 PM
it's so hard to understand when someone so young dies...then we see the Pope who accepted and was serene in the knowlege he was going home.....and maybe in the end, the age doesn't matter...the acceptance is what we need to achieve...
~JerseyGirl
http://journals.aol.com/cneinhorn/WonderGirl
Comment from cneinhorn - 4/7/05 9:07 AM
We do learn a valuable lesson when someone we love dies too young. My sister was 48 when she died; as I approached and passed that age, I often though how lucky I was to be doing things she never go the chance to do. Even things like having hot flashes, or turning fifty (which I am looking forward to this summer...) The disease that killed her robbed her of the opportunity/obligation to "come to terms" with the end of her life. To this day, I don't know whether that was a blessing or a curse. Lisa :-]
Comment from lisaram1955 - 4/7/05 5:19 AM
Today, I had started a thought thinking that if you should die before me that I will attend your last party. But, then I shook that thought from my head and thought, if I should live today, I'd better start planning how I was going to meet you before you weren't here to meet. I hope always our words between you and us keep aligned, but that I want to start planning a physical meeting. We better plan the gathering in Philly, because I doubt we'll get V. on the plane!
ReplyDeleteLove you girl!
xoxoxox
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