Last August, I moved back to Dallas to help my
parents as they dealt with my dad’s diagnosis of an incurable blood
disorder. My dad employed me to help bring
some closure to his business and personal affairs. For several months, he felt pretty good and
we got a lot done in his office, and had some fun times in between chemo weeks.
Then the disease began to get to him. There were trips to the hospital, multiplying
medications, Hospice and home care, and finally death.
It seems strange to talk about death in a blog about health
and fitness. But death is coming to
every one of us and avoidance of the subject does nothing to stop it. I want to
talk about it because it seems to me that my dad did it right and that his
death might be instructional.
Here’s why I think he did it right:
He lived fully every day of his life. He pursued his passions tirelessly. He flew his airplane, he fished and painted
and wrote pithy essays. He made friends
with everyone he met. He got over hurts
quickly and didn’t bear grudges. I don’t
think he ever thought things like “What a wasted day!” or “I wish I had taken
that chance.” He took full
advantage of opportunities, every day.
When death began to
creep up behind him, he didn’t have a long list of things he needed to do
before he left. He’d been living his
bucket list all along.
His relationships with people were as clear as water. There weren’t a lot of regrets, explanations
or apologies that needed to be made. He
stayed current in his friendships. He allowed himself to be moved by the struggles and dreams of others.
One of the most striking things he said to me was that,
looking back on his 80 years, he’d like to live all those experiences over again. That’s how much he loved life.
Not because it was easy; my dad had plenty of
heartaches. People who betrayed
him. Business deals that went
south. Things, as in every human life, that just
didn’t turn out as expected. Some of his
disappointments were severe, but he never stayed in that regret-place. He didn’t torture himself about what he might
have done differently. He picked up and
moved on.
And this is part of his legacy to me: always get up and keep moving. No matter how
grave the error or grievous the loss, pick up and move on, with love and hope intact, because this is
the blueprint for human life: we fall
and we get up again.
Lest you think that too simplistic, let me say that I have
known people who did not get
back up again after a fall. They gave up
the whole endeavor and declined to try again, or they allowed their hearts to
become bitter and negative. Either way,
it’s not moving forward.
So it’s worth saying: when you fall, get up. Get your body up, your spirit up, your hope
and expectations up.
I’d like to die as my dad did. Well-loved and trailing a huge adventure of a
life behind him. Having experienced the
whole bold undertaking as a glorious expression of love. Coming to the end with peace because I’d
always done my best. And then resting in
the comfort that God will take care of the rest.
To come to a death like that, I have to live a life like
that. We die as we live. If daily life is full of self-doubt and
recriminations and fear, death will come heavily. If life is full of exploration and daring and
unrelenting hope, death may come as lightly as it did to my dad, my hero in
life and now in death, too.
