And Then He Died

I suppose that you could say that at times I am kind of a morbid fellow. I know too many people who have died at ages that most people would say were “far too young.” The causes of their deaths is varied. Some had a terminal illness, some had massive heart attacks, others were killed by drunk drivers.

As I sit here typing it occurs to me that my perspective has changed about age. Some of them were less than 20, others were between 50 and 65. In my younger years I would have termed those in the 50-65 range as being old. Now I can no longer do that.

At the tender age of my late 30s I can see how I am going to blink and find myself the parent of teenage children and in another blink I could very well be a grandfather. Perception changes as you age, doesn’t it.

Sometimes I wonder what life would be like without me. I mull over what would happen. It is part of why I have life insurance. I wonder what lessons the kids would take with them. They are still so young. There is the financial insurance and then there is the spiritual insurance.

That is part of why I share A Secret For My Children with them so frequently as well as why I love to bless them. I want them to never forget their father’s love for them.

We all carry our own luggage, the burdens of the past. I know from personal experience the pain and frustration of not having the opportunity to share last words with loved ones. My mother and I recently had a long conversation about this as one of her friends recently passed away.

It was sudden and unexpected. One moment he was speaking to his wife and the next he was gone. It could happen to me. My last words could be “clean up your mess” or “where the bleep did you learn how to drive.” Who knows.

Needless to say my mother was upset. But as I told my mother you are in big trouble if after a lifetime together you don’t know in your heart that your spouse loved you. Sometimes things happen and you just have to have the intestinal fortitude to go on living.

It is not nice, but it is real. Life is what we make of it.

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  1. Jack's Shack December 4, 2006 at 6:47 am


    Experience is a rough teacher.

  2. Anonymous December 4, 2006 at 6:05 am

    A good friend of mine died last year in a car accident at the age of 27. The last time we spoke was via email a few months before. I never got around to emailing him back, and I’ll be eating those unwritten words forever. You’re right, the pain & frustration of never being able to share last words with a person can be overwhelming.

  3. Jack's Shack December 4, 2006 at 5:20 am


    It is a worthwhile goal.

  4. Anonymous December 4, 2006 at 2:09 am

    Very true, Jack. But I *still* hope my final words are kind ones…

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