NOT YET!

“Wow! It’s been seven years,I thought you were dead.”

 

An appropriate thought after allthese years, but no. When life settles down into a routine, sometimes there is justnot enough going on to make it worth documenting. Then, from out of the blue,comes a thought or two that are worthy. In this case, my own mortality. We ALLhave that to face.

 

There is an old saying that “Theonly guarantee in life is death and taxes”, thank you Ben Franklin.  The taxes I have paid for years and have come to realizethat they are inescapable. Death is also inescapable but does not come in themail several times a year. Instead, it is a “once in a lifetime event” from whichthere is no return.

 

When we are young, we are indestructibleand immortal, at least in our own minds, leading the young to take insanechances that some of them do not survive. By middle age, we become aware of theconcept of death but, with reasonable personal care, we view it as somethingfar in the distance. By age sixty, we become acutely aware of death, but we stillhave enough distractions so as to not dwell on it. By seventy, the idea ofdeath walks with you each day, but you hope not to attract its attention. Byeighty and beyond, just opening your eyes in the morning is worthy of a briefprayer of gratitude.

 

I have always imaged life asan infinitely long ramp that starts at birth with all of the people you know at thebottom. They all start walking up the ramp and you cannot stop or back up. Asyou go farther and farther up the ramp, it begins to narrow and there is notenough room for everybody. Eventually some people fall off the ramp and, whileyou regret their loss, there is nothing you can do to help them or bring themback. New people join you on the ramp, and it is still very crowded.  As the ramp continues to narrow, more andmore people fall off and there are fewer and fewer people left. As you advance up theramp, you begin to realize that the ramp is NOT infinite, but rather it is YOURramp. It becomes increasingly narrow, and you realize that you can see the edge, but all you can see beyond the edge is a mass of clouds. You become awarethat soon YOU will be squeezed off the edge and into the clouds of uncertaintyas the thinning mass of people continues to advance. Some people turn to faith, takingcomfort in a belief that that their lives will continue in a place with noramp. Others resign themselves to the inevitable without caring what the futureholds. Some, in failing health or personal pain, voluntarily step off. What ifyou are the very front person on the ramp? All of your contemporaries are gone, andthe people behind you all have their own lives. Have you become a burden tothem? Are they having to push you up the ramp because you have become so frail?  When do you say, “Wait for me!” and step off?

 

What is ahead for us when wefall from the ramp? What is it like to die? Is it like going to sleep andwaking up somewhere else? Do you see a bright light and move toward it, leavingyour body behind? Do thoughts simply end, and the lights go out? No one cananswer these questions; death is a one-way trip.  Given the numerous possibilities for a lingering or painful death, one can only hope for quick and silent, preferably while sleeping. 

 

What if, as some religionsclaim, you meet all of your deceased relatives “on the other side”? How willthey appear? Will they be the age they were when they died? Will they be youngand in their prime? How will you recognize them? My father died at 39 and I’mnow in my 70’s; will I appear older than my father? My grandfather died in his70’s, will we appear the same age? So many questions without answers. By thetime you learn the answers, you cannot come back to tell anyone. If there is aninternet access in the afterlife, I’ll let you know.