Life, Death and the Truth of the Matter

Now, my boys are at an age where death is a really scary concept. Of course they have been told our religious beliefs about death, but it is still very much an unknown. They have never experienced the death of a friend or family member. We can't try comfort them and by explaining that death only happens when someone is very, very old and the body is just too tired and weak to continue. The boys start eyeballing their grandparents with great concern, and we haven't been completely honest with them. On the other hand, if we tell them death happens to everyone at anytime, well they are at an age where a complete meltdown would ensue. So, for now, they live in a bit of a cocoon, and death remains a very fuzzy, abstract subject.

Adults, on the other hand, face the formidable task of undoing their own cocoons. We tend to drift from day to day, taking for granted that the existence of this day is a gift that can be taken without warning. We could live to the ripe age of 101, or just 21. There is no clock we can check, just to be sure we do everything we want in the allotted time. We just stumble through each day, assuming we will make it to that big meeting tomorrow or that our loved ones will be home for supper tonight. The reality of it is still too scary to grasp.

I've read that people with near-death experiences or survivors of disease are blessed with a true sense of appreciation for each moment. They have witnessed first-hand how fleeting this life can be, and have gained a perspective the rest of us can only imagine.

Often I am so busy that when the end of a day rolls around, I look back in amazement that it has flown by so quickly. I just sailed through a day with no concept of its importance. My focus was on the tasks at hand rather than each moment as it came. A sort of tunnel vision set in. The danger is that, when my time comes, I could find myself looking back on my life as a spectator, rather than a participant. What a disservice that would be.

Eventhough I have experienced death of a loved one many times over, my childhood cocoon remains intact. It is more comfortable to assume things will go on as they always have, although I have seen that this certainly is not the case. Waking ourselves from this false sense of security is quite a challenge. It is the only way, however, to ensure we have truly lived our lives to their fullest potential. Stepping out of the comfort zone can mean the difference between looking back with regrets or looking back with joy.

Taking a deep breath, I checked out the book.... nnall the best,

Catie nnn