When I Come to Die

in some ways those who have been diagnosed with an incurable disease and know with some precision when to expect death are fortunate.  they can make preparations: get their affairs in order, say goodbye to family and friends, make amends where needed, and make peace with themselves.  for most of us, death comes unexpectedly, bringing an abrupt end to our existence.  i suppose the lesson in this is that we should always be prepared for death.

as i've aged, i know that the end is much closer.  i jokingly tell myself and others that i plan to live to be at least 125, but the likelihood of that happening becomes more and more remote with each passing day.  so death is on my mind much more that it was in my younger days.  my wife and i have told our children what we want to happen upon our death--no funeral service, to be cremated and our ashes scattered in a beautiful location, a marker placed on the grave plot of my parents who were also cremated.  we've told them a little about our finances, but we haven't made written notes for them, something that we need to do in the near future.

i think of what may happen after this life is over.  i'm okay with becoming a part of the earth, of living on in the life that my remains nourish and in the memories of those who knew me.  i'm hoping that reincarnation is more than a superstition, that i'll have more chances to grow toward enlightenment.  i have serious doubts about the christian idea that when we die, if we believe the right things, we'll go to spend eternity in some paradise.  that seems the most unlikely scenario of what happens upon death, though it would be great if true.  i won't spend any time worrying about whether i'm "right with God" in order to be whisked away to eternal bliss in a golden city to play my harp in perpetuity.

change is our only constant.  nothing is as it was a millisecond before.  i'm learning to accept the changes in my body and in the world around me.  i know that everything comes to an end and is replaced by something different.  this body that has served me so well, the house where i live, the town in which i live, this country--nothing is forever.  one day, those in whose memories i live on will be gone along with those memories.  but even then, i'll live on in the good or ill i've inspired in others.  i'm fortunate to be able to say that my children are good people, kind, thoughtful, caring, spreading good will around them among their coworkers and friends.  they are full of love for others and for life, and, while i can't take all the credit for that, i know that i've played a role in what they have become and are becoming.  i am gratified that through them my influence for good, if not the memory of my life, is being carried on through countless lives.

may we be grateful for the chance to make the world a better place in large or small ways.  may we remember that there is great joy in life and great relief in death and prepare ourselves for both.  may we live lives filled with gratitude for all the opportunities life affords us.  may we meet our end knowing that we did what we could to make the most of the days we had.  shalom.