Death, as morbid of a subject as it can be is one the things in this life we can all count on. Whether by illness, accident, violence, our time in this world can be fleeting.
When we struggle with the loss of a close relative or friend, sometimes, introspectively, we look at our own life and challenge ourselves to determine if the decisions we have made are the right ones (well as least I do).
I look at my parents lives, yes they are still living, 50 plus years of marriage, still seeking to impact not only each other’s lives, but those of family and community.
With my previous post, and now this one, I thought I would seek to explore myself in a way which is slightly uncomfortable given my nature.
I write this as I ponder the fragility of this life. Last year we almost lost my older sibling to a massive heart attack. The shock of being asked by doctors if I am the one that can make end of life decisions was disconcerting. The answer was that I was not the one who could make the decisions. And, given the outcome, I don’t know if I would have made the right one.
My one question that I raised to my sibling over the Christmas holiday was simple. “Why do you think you are still here?”
You have to understand that my question comes from the realization that it was a miracle that allowed him to recover. The doctors told me at the hospital that he was down with no oxygen for 30 minutes, that they did not yet know the severity of the brain damage. Yet here he was sitting across from me with no obvious sign of previous health issue with the exception of the scar running down his sternum.
I wonder if that life event has changed me. Has it let me savor these moments with my children more? Has it allowed me to hold onto that feeling of warmth those many moments after I have hugged my wife?
I sit here typing this as I listen to my son in the distance with his Spanish tutor and I wonder what memories we will make this day?