Death isn’t something to be feared, its a reminder of just how precious life actually is.
I’ve been thinking about my own mortality lately. That has partly been brought on by the fact my grandmother is nearing the end of her life and one of my favorite parts of the days is when Leeanne and I stroll across the road for a cuppa with her and whoever else happens to be there at the time (usually either my Mum and Dad or Auntie Anne).
My mum has worked with my Grandmother on the story of her life, complete with photos. It is fascinating to see my grandmother as a small child, a teenager and a young married woman. Now 95, Mema has seen so many things change in her lifetime. As a child in rural Tasmania she grew up without electricity, much less the radio and now she sees her grandchildren and great grandchildren with gadgets that would have been the stuff of science fiction only 20 years ago.
My grandmother has had a good life. She has loved and been loved by many, many people and now many of the people she grew up with are no longer with us, including her husband, Gordon (Pa).
It is tempting to think that life will never end, but it does. At some point all the people we know and love will no longer walk the face of the planet, and before long it is highly probable that people will not even know that you ever existed.
Part of me wants to protest at that truth, thinking that somehow I am too important to ever be forgotten, but chances are I will.
The book of Ecclesiastes indicates that viewing life from the perspective of death is actually a very healthy thing.
A good name is better than fine perfume,
and the day of death better than the day of birth.
It is better to go to a house of mourning
than to go to a house of feasting,
for death is the destiny of everyone;
the living should take this to heart.
Frustration is better than laughter,
because a sad face is good for the heart.
The heart of the wise is in the house of mourning,
but the heart of fools is in the house of pleasure.(Ecclesisates 7:1-4)
“This death-denying culture has led to a system of care for the terminally ill that allows us to indulge the fantasy that dying is somehow optional.”
Death isn’t something to be feared, its a reminder of just how precious, and temporal, life actually is.