Mortality Matters

Many of us ignore death most of the time. We gloss it over with words such as "he passed", "she crossed over", "he is in a better place".

When I was young we said "died", period. We had wakes (visitations) that lasted a day or more. The body was viewed in the home and I even remember when I was a tot that I was held up to my uncle's body to give him a parting kiss. (That was pretty traumatic at the time, but I did face death head on, with no frills about it).

One of the ways we look at death as children is through our pets that come and go from our lives. Each time a special pet dies we grieve at our loss, often with vague realization of the permanency of their absence. If we do not lose a parent, friend or sibling until we are adults, we remain distant from the realities of the brevity of life. Life feels ever so long and permanent in our youth.

Each time I attend a funeral, which become more numerous as I age, I re-look at my own dying. It is not an easy look for the most part. In a few years I will be a blip on the screen of life and after those who knew me are gone, there will be no memories of me on this earth.

This is a reminder to make the best of the time I have to live my life to the fullest, and that will be unique to me....the road only I can take.

It always gets back to "hello, good-bye, hello" until the last goodbye.

A neighbor died recently. He was quiet, thoughtful, gentle and unprovoking. I would like to be that kind of neighbor, although that is not my nature. I guess the best kind of neighbor I may hope to be is one that is not critical, is accepting and available in emergencies.

One of my veterans that I interviewed died around the same time. He was a Korean War veteran, and alert and healthy when we visited a few weeks before his death. I was shocked when I saw his obituary. I learned that he died as a result of a fall. He had an opportunity to fight for his country one more time with his offering of his testimonial for Save Our VA in Hot Springs. He was proud of his story that was going to Washington as a voice of one of the veterans who cared about other veterans.

The deaths of both of these men reminded me of the numerous "good-byes" I have said during my lifetime and the gratitude I have for the ways in which each of these individuals have touched my life in one way or another.

Life is short. Each departure is a remembrance and a preparation for my own final "good-bye", and each one a memorial to the preciousness of "hello".