Earlier this week, I discovered my Uncle Hal was losing his kidney function. He is in hospice right now, declining dialysis treatment and awaiting the moment Our Lord and Savior carries him home.
This morning there was an incident at work. I don’t know exactly what happened, but first an ambulance arrived andd then tribal police showed up. Later that afternoon, a chaplain from the Spokane County Sheriff’s Office showed and we were told someone, a coworker had passed.
We are on this planet a very short time. Some shorter than others. The Book of Life and Death isn’t in our hands to read, but in God’s. My uncle if he lives to February 14th will be 91 years old. He’s lived a very good life and will be deeply missed by all who love him. We all will shed tears of sorrow for him.
I’ve known many who have reached the mountain top, opened their arms out and taken the leap to Heaven to meet their maker. It is after all what we are in this animal and plant klingdom: mortal. Only most recently have we become more sanitizewd about how we deal with death. There was a time when our ancestors were buried in shallow graves or crypts or cremated on pyres. Now, unless otherwised documented we are buried in graves with cement vaults, heavily embalmed or cremated in an oven and placed in urns inside mausoluleums.
“Life is short,” as one of my co-workers stated this afternoon. “So, enjoy every moment while you can.” Omar Khayyam, had a similar quote from his Rubayat, “A Book of Verses underneath the Bough,
A Jug of Wine, a Loaf of Bread—and Thou
Beside me singing in the Wilderness—
Oh, Wilderness were Paradise now!”
Jerry Schellhammer 