NOT YET!

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

 An appropriate thought after all these years, but no. When life settles down into a routine, sometimes there is just not 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 ALL have that to face.

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

 When we are young, we are indestructible and immortal, at least in our own minds, leading the young to take insane chances that some of them do not survive. By middle age, we become aware of the concept of death but, with reasonable personal care, we view it as something far in the distance. By age sixty, we become acutely aware of death, but we still have enough distractions so as to not dwell on it. By seventy, the idea of death walks with you each day, but you hope not to attract its attention. By eighty and beyond, just opening your eyes in the morning is worthy of a brief prayer of gratitude.

 I have always imaged life as an infinitely long ramp that starts at birth with all of the people you know at the bottom. They all start walking up the ramp and you cannot stop or back up. As you go farther and farther up the ramp, it begins to narrow and there is not enough room for everybody. Eventually some people fall off the ramp and, while you regret their loss, there is nothing you can do to help them or bring them back. New people join you on the ramp, and it is still very crowded.  As the ramp continues to narrow, more and more people fall off and there are fewer and fewer people left. As you advance up the ramp, you begin to realize that the ramp is NOT infinite, but rather it is YOUR ramp. 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 aware that soon YOU will be squeezed off the edge and into the clouds of uncertainty as the thinning mass of people continues to advance. Some people turn to faith, taking comfort in a belief that that their lives will continue in a place with no ramp. Others resign themselves to the inevitable without caring what the future holds. Some, in failing health or personal pain, voluntarily step off. What if you are the very front person on the ramp? All of your contemporaries are gone, and the people behind you all have their own lives. Have you become a burden to them? 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 we fall from the ramp? What is it like to die? Is it like going to sleep and waking up somewhere else? Do you see a bright light and move toward it, leaving your body behind? Do thoughts simply end, and the lights go out? No one can answer 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 religions claim, you meet all of your deceased relatives “on the other side”? How will they appear? Will they be the age they were when they died? Will they be young and in their prime? How will you recognize them? My father died at 39 and I’m now in my 70’s; will I appear older than my father? My grandfather died in his 70’s, will we appear the same age? So many questions without answers. By the time you learn the answers, you cannot come back to tell anyone. If there is an internet access in the afterlife, I’ll let you know.