My mother has cancer. Pancreatic cancer. There, I said it. People don’t recover from pancreatic cancer. They die.
I’ve been thinking about death more than usual.
My grandmother died at age 60 from complication of diabetes. My grandfather died at 73 of lung cancer. He worked 6 days a week until he noticed a lump on his shoulder. Then he died a month later. My other grandfather died in his 40s, my father was only 4 years old at the time. My other grandmother died in her 70s. I remember only my one grandfather well who lived with us for most of my childhood. I have only vague remembrances of one grandmother. My dad died at 75 from complications from Alzheimer’s disease
When I turned 60 I started to think about death. I started counting how much longer I could have. Maybe 30 years like my mother? Maybe 15 like my father? One thing was for certain. I was going to die. It was not IF. It was WHEN. And HOW. It was like an awakening to something that was always there but I ignored. Like the pile of papers in the corner of the dining room that you just keep walking by, in the beginning because you don’t want to deal with then, then eventually you stop noticing. Then company comes and you start cleaning up and you realize what you forgot.
What do we do with this? Death is coming. It is as certain as the setting of the sun but we pretend not to notice it until we get the test results. And they say cancer.
The doctor said mom is strong enough for chemo but there is no cure. But what is a cure for a 94 year old woman? Two more years, five more years, ten years? The life expectancy of women in the USA is 81 so she is in bonus territory at this point.
The real question is, with this is our minds, how then should we live?
Obviously we should enjoy every good day she has. We should celebrate and be glad because she is still here for us. We should be present for each moment as if it is our last because we do not know. It reminds me of what Jesus said in the gospel of Matthew 9:15, And Jesus said to them, “Can the friends of the bridegroom mourn as long as the bridegroom is with them? But the days will come when the bridegroom will be taken away from them, and then they will fast.”
We mistakenly live like life has no end. But that is not true. Life is fragile and it is not only about us. It is about those we live with and will leave behind, the legacy we will leave them. Will we leave them a pile of collectibles and old VHS tapes? Or will we leave them with a legacy of wisdom and love, examples of service and selflessness?
On the other side of life, through the door of death, remains a mystery to us. There are stories of those who came near death and returned, but they are open to interpretation. Who can know for sure while still on this side? But we all bet on something by how we live our lives.
I am betting on Jesus. I have committed all I am to Him. I expect to see Him and be with Him in Paradise on the other side of death. Then death is no longer something to fear, but something we can release ourselves to at the time He calls us to Him, trusting He will lift us up and take us to Himself. Meanwhile I am spending all my days knowing Him and serving Him by loving others.
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| Mom with her grandkids |
I do not remember my grandmothers. My daughters have had the joy of knowing both their grandmothers into their adulthood. The catch is they have lost one and will eventually lose the other as well. That is the cost of love – we will have loss. I think the loss is worth it for the great delight of years of love.
We will enjoy my mom, we will celebrate her. We will stand by her, comfort her, pray for her and help her have as good an end as possible. We will see her leave us, we will cry and then as she would want us to, we will go on, grateful for her life and her love.
And then someday, we will see her on the other side.
