It's never easy to consider the end of a thing. No matter how long one plans, no matter what safeguards one enacts, everything ends. Television series, books, lives, and (as science so comfortingly puts it) the universe are all being led along the path of slow decay, until their bitter ends. And you'd think that we, as humans, would understand that. After all, it's been going on for lifetimes now.
But it doesn't make it any easier. Especially when the pain of loss is personal.
For a while now, my grandmother has been in poor health. Her lungs, her blood, and her mind have all been tainted by various effects of the world of sickness. At 80-something - or is she in her 90's? - she's led a full, rewarding life. She's seen (or received word of) all her grandchildren marrying, even held some great-grandchildren. She's been a strong woman of faith, up until the time that her mind began to betray her.
And now, her living will is taking effect. As her body wears down for the final time, she's requested to die in peace.
And I can't find it in my heart to blame her.
In younger days, I was very conservative about such matters. "Life is life, and one should always fight for it," I thought. I believed that life was supposed to be struggled through until the very last minute. I wanted so very much to believe in life - at any cost.
And now, as I grow older, I find that my ideals are eroded constantly. There are so very few things that are black and white, and so many colors that don't fit into either category. Is it age and maturity tempering the fiery idealism of youth? Has it always been this way?
Why did no one ever tell me that "right" and "wrong" overlap so much?
Moses once asked the Lord to teach us to count our days. I know now, in part, that it's not just about the number of days there are between inception and death. I understand that it's the moments that enrich a life that we're supposed to pay attention and count. Remembering the first kiss shared between you and your spouse. The first time you saw your child. The accomplishments you may have had throughout your life. The agonizing heartbreaks that honed your purpose, focused you into what God made for you in this lifetime.
I suppose that, without times like these, purpose and destiny cannot be created. It's through the revealing of character that a purpose is shown, and character is truly revealed in times of tragedy. David's time at Ziklag, for example, shows the depth of his devotion to his God and his people. Or that time that the child could not come to him, but David will eventually go to him. There are so many things that make a person's purpose - and not everyone can handle it.
The saddest thing to see is when a person falters against the purpose for which they were created. Samson, Amy Winehouse, Janis Joplin, Charlie Chaplin...History is littered with gifted people, good people, whose lives have been twisted, shaken, and corrupted by their inability to harness their character for something more than the "now." It takes a strong person to plan for the future - including the worst parts of it.
My grandmother is a strong person. And I am proud of her.
My grandmother passed away three weeks ago from a cruel form of cancer. Years ago I remember being in a debate with some unknown folks regarding assisted suicide and how evil it was. I was staunchly opposed to it in any form. When you come face to face with suffering, the type of suffering that isn't fixable, do you wait for God to provide a miracle or do you help the person die rather than suffer and waste away? Suffice it to say, my opinion on assisted death has changed.
ReplyDeleteMarie - My opinions on a lot of things have changed, for precisely the reasons that you've outlined. As a general rule now, I believe that it should be the individual's right to choose the course of their life - not the government's. Other than that, I suppose it's a matter of finding people of like minds.
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