Life and Death

My uncle is dying.

I went to lunch with my parents this week. I try to do that as often as I can. This week we discussed death, and all the things no one really wants to talk about.

It was hard.

It is hard to see my dad's last brother slipping away. As he struggles finding the reality, he is living day to day knowing it's getting closer. Of course, we all are getting closer to death each day of living, but once you get that actual "Dr. Said" notice, it must be frustrating living out the last of your minutes in vague understanding of what is happening as your body fails.

I saw my uncle last summer. We have had a long distance relationship with him for years, as he has lived a solitary life (of his choosing) many, many miles from home. My generation has spread out far and wide in this world, but most of my aunts and uncles continue to live close by.

Except this one. We maintained contact via emails, and occasional visits. The last one was when he returned for my grandma's funeral. He was struggling with clear thinking back then, and I began to realize the days were getting shorter. I probably will not see him again before he's gone.

I look forward to the reports I hear of how he's doing. My cousins, his children, are doing good at keeping the rest of us updated on his health. He sounds happy and is being well cared for.

But it's hard to see.
And it's getting harder for my dad.

He lost his first brother almost 16 years ago to a tragic auto accident. It reshaped the lives of our entire family when he passed.

Now, Dad is realizing the memories they have always shared are mostly now in his own mind. When his brother is gone, he remains as the oldest of the siblings, but what he shared with his brothers will be his alone.

It makes him sad. He is grateful for his 4 younger sisters. But he seems to feel like a lone wolf, in charge of a dying pack.

Death is hard.

I look at dad, strong and proud. He is slowing down, his health is poor. He doesn't ask for pity, he just needs someone to talk to. I know his days are not long for this earth, and I know his passing with be difficult for me.

But I also know that I have been loved and cared for over 50 years now, by a loving father, much softer in heart than he appears on the surface. Many of my life values have been shaped and polished by this man. He says he carried me the first five years of my life. I hope to help carry him the last years of his.

Life. Death. It's all we have. I hope I am making the most of mine.
I know my examples have been the family men that I have looked up to.
Heaven will welcome them when it's their time to enter the pearly gates.

And God will bottle our tears. Psalm 56:8