Musings on Death

I'll try not to get all maudlin over the topic today....Death.

Just this week, I lost a friend whom I had not seen in a long time. Maybe "friend" is not the operative word I am looking for. How about, "an acquaintance from my youth"? We were at one time friends, and she married a good buddy, but we have never seen each other for a long time, even though we lived only 20 miles apart. Randly lost Barb on Monday, just three days into the new year. She had become ill on New Year's Day. I feel sad for Randy, his family, and those who were Barb's students. My condolences.

It made me think, though, about friendship and death. I have another friend who is undergoing colon surgery today to remove a tumor. Abdul had colon cancer 11 years ago, and he thought it was in remission. Happy New year to him. I have to admit that he has a great sense of humor. He told me the other night on the phone as we were discussing the surgery, "If I don't find humor in this, I'll get too depressed." He went on to explain that 11 years ago on Friday the 13th in November, he found out he had cancer; on Friday the 13th this year, he found out his cancer was back. He vowed to avoid going to the doctor on all Friday the 13ths from now on.

This morning, his daughter Alia tells me, he walked into the hospital wearing a sombrero and a brightly colored poncho. He always thought that he could pass for a Hispanic person, instead of a Pakistani. He even went out and learned fluent Spanish to prove his point. Abdul told me the other night, "I hope I come out of this a comma." "A comma?" I asked... Well, last time I had this colon surgery, I came out a semi colon. This time I hope to be a comma, not a period." Believe me, he needs all the punctuation he can get!

These two instances and the deaths of other friends have made me realize my own mortality. One of the goals in my life has always been to live past the age my father was when he died--57. I am close. I have always been taught to set goals that are reachable, then strive for more. So, next, I will look to my mom--75. Goals are good.

But my friends deaths seem to be outside their control. I am sure that Barb did not want to go, neither did John McElhaney, or Jeannie Miller, or many other friends that have passed on. They answered a different call. They all went on a journey that we, as living persons, do not and cannot fathom.

In the play, Our Town, by Thornton Wilder, Emily, who has died, asks the Stage Manager, "Do any humans ever realize life as they live it?---every, every minute?" The Stage Manager says that he does not think so, except for maybe the saints and the poets. Shakepeare reminds us that, " All the world's a stage, and all the men and women merely players..." reminding us that there is someone who controls the play and gives us directions and even has written the ending for us.

As you live your life, once again, Shakespeare tells us, "Act well your part, For in there all the glory lies."

Doughnut