On Life and Death

Recently I met a woman who was 101 years old. Each time I was in her presence, I felt as if I should be bowing instead of just saying hi. I had a great grandmother (Grandma Great) who lived to be 101. We were pretty good buds and I have a few very endearing memories of her even though she passed away when I was only four years old; I'd like to think that my love for the elderly began with her (which is one of the main driving reasons for me to choose nursing as a profession). Until I recently met this 101 year old woman, I never realized just how many years that is. It astounds me to think how much she has lived through: major historical turning points, pain, joy, and experiences galore!

One can only imagine...

If she were born 101 years ago, that means she was born in 1911. She would have been a teenager in the roaring 20s. She would have been old enough at the time to remember women gaining the right to vote in the United States. She probably would have married at around the start of the Great Depression and began raising her children around then. She would have had teenagers during WWII, possibly been grateful that they weren't old enough to go away to war but also nervous that the war would continue when they were old enough. Around 1950, she would have been sending her kids out into the world. Watching them go to college, get married, bless her with grandchildren, make poor choices, and learn how to survive in the world. Maybe some of her worst fears were realized when one of her children went to war in Korea. She probably watched in wonderment as man walked on the moon for the first time 1969. In the mid-seventies, she would reach retirement age. She would welcome more grandbabies into her family, and then begin to welcome great-grandbabies. She would also begin losing those she loved to the other side, ones that she may have expected to outlive her: her husband, dear friends, and then even probably her own children. Great-great-grandchildren would probably be welcomed to earth. (By this time, she probably would be having a difficult time keeping track of her own posterity.) Life would continue and maybe she would possibly wonder, 'Why haven't I been called home yet?' Did she feel blessed to live so long? Or did she want the pain, sorrow, and hardship that inevitably comes along with this earth life to end?

This is all very generalized and brief...think of everything that really could be experienced in that amount of time. It absolutely astounds me.

Death, at least of those closest to me, has left me alone for much of my life. My earliest experience I remember with death was my Grandma Great and, as I said earlier, we were pretty close. I have a few very poignant memories of her, especially for a four-year-old. I remember she loved to watch conference (which I didn't understand at the time)--she would re-watch taped sessions much of the day. I remember giving her Fruit Stripe Gum (known at the time by me as Zebra Gum since I couldn't read) and after a few minutes, she'd stop chewing so I'd offer her another piece. And then another. And another. Finally, my grandma (who was Grandma Great's caregiver) realized what was happening (the gum was just sticking to her mouth) and that was the end of that. My Grandma Great was also the person who taught me to pray, at least as far as I remember. We had a "sleep over" one night and I remember her teaching me to kneel down at the side of the bed and pray before we went to sleep. I remember praying for her on the other side after she passed away.

When I was 11 years old, death touched me again--my maternal grandmother was hit by a car and killed. I don't really remember what emotions I experienced at the time, I remember it sort of as matter of fact. In high school, two deaths hit me hard: a kid who committed suicide who was in some of my classes, and my cat Mocos who was hit by a car. With both of these deaths, I remember feeling very angry as if some great injustice had been done.

Lately, I have a much more positive view of death. True, death is a very sad and difficult thing for those left here on earth but to the soul departing, I can only imagine that it is an indescribably glorious experience. I often think about what the day will be like when I go home to be reunited with my maker. I can only imagine that it will be a wonderful day (provided I am prepared). This life is like camping--it's fun and all but going home is always greatly anticipated. The difference in this life is that we think what we have is wonderful (which is is) but we forget that what we have to look forward to is SO much better.

At the start of this year, two people I knew who were in their 20s passed away unexpectedly. It was hard and I still can't believe they are gone but I am happy for them because they have moved onto something better. Their passing made me realize that we must always be prepared to be called home because we never know when it is going to happen. It also made me realize that we need to truly appreciate those who are with us now because we never know when our time will be cut short. (This is much easier said than done, by the way.)

My work and life experiences have made me realize that there are many things worse than death. I suspect that my thoughts on death will continue to evolve and deepen as I experience more of this life and embark on my new nursing career.

I can't wait to go home but I'm definitely not ready yet!