Little Consolation

As the saying goes, there are only two certainties in life--death and taxes. Though at this time of year it would be fitting to talk about taxes, I'll turn my attention to death. I know, death and dying are not comfortable topics for most people, especially when giving consideration to your own mortality or that of a loved one. But much like talking about love, money, and sexuality, discussions of death seem to get to the heart of how people view the world and their place in it. Uplifting? Maybe not. Enlightening? Absolutely.

Many questions are bound to come up when someone dies. With discussions ranging from "What were her final words?" to "Will they be serving sandwich platters at the reception?"no topic seems off limits. It seems the more tragic the death, the deeper the questions get. And perhaps the biggest one that is asked most often is quite simply "Why?"

Why did she die? 
Why did he have to leave us?
Why couldn't we have had her for a little while longer?
Why did he have to suffer?
Why would God take away someone so good?
Why not that guy instead?


I can't offer an answer to every question raised nor would I want to. Would any such answers provide  consolation to those asking the questions? Do any of us have the right answers to those questions? I think the questions themselves, and our earnestness in seeking answers, say a lot about the lens through which we see the world.

I see the world through my "Catholic lens", that this earthly life is a journey to an eternal salvation,  a path home to Heaven (assuming I've done my part to get there). I'm by no means a saint. And I have questions, doubts, and fears just like everyone else. Among them...it can be incredibly discouraging to look around the world and see many examples of the worst people getting the best of life while the best people seem to be getting the worst of it.

I'm human. Of course I've looked around and thought, "Why is this self-absorbed jerk living in that house, driving that car, and in good health while this guy over here...great husband, amazing father...he drives a beat up car to a shack of a house because he's barely able to work and is buried in medical bills from cancer treatments that drain the life out of him every week? Where's the (BLEEEEEP) justice in that?!?!"

Earlier tonight, I listened with great sympathy as my sister shared with me some of the questions being asked in light of the passing of a close friend. The friend was 40 years old. Died of cancer. Loving husband. Devoted father to seven children. Career in the Navy. Strong Catholic faith. He was the best man at my sister's wedding...best friend to my brother-in-law since childhood.

We don't ever want to see a loved one leave us. Many of us might try to seek consolation by seeing his or her passing as a "long life being laid to rest". Their time on earth is done--it's time for them to gain their eternal reward. But what about the life that seems to be cut short? What then? Where's our consolation? Or as another friend raised the question to my sister, "Why did he have to die instead of someone else who had lived longer, who lived less of a life, or who had fewer people to leave behind? Why not someone like me instead?"

Why not me?
Why him?
Why did he go?
Why am I still here?

Nobody really knows with certainty the answer to those questions. And again, your answer will depend on how you see the world. For my two cents, I think it comes down to one word.

Legacy.

Of course, for a wife who just lost her young husband, for seven young children who just lost their father...for anyone losing a loved one, there's little consolation in hearing any answers right now, maybe ever. Their consolation comes in whatever way they need it. For each one of them, it will be a little different.

Legacy.

We can't ever know the full impact our lives will have but for the legacy borne out by those who live after us. Our death finds its greatest meaning in the lives it leaves behind. Our lives going forward will bear the fruit of this man's legacy. The shape our lives take will provide some answer to the question of "Why him? Why now?" And so ask the question again, "Why not me?"

For them.

In whatever way those "left behind" are meant to carry out their journey, we are still here because we  also need to be here. The journey is not over for them yet. It's not over for me either. Our path to eternity is not yet complete. There's still much work to be done. And though we carry our load forward with heavy hearts for those who have gone before us, we continue on so that we might give greater purpose to their lives. And we continue on so that those affected most by the death of a loved one will not be alone. Their journeys are not over. They need us. We need them. We are their legacy. They are our legacy.

"O ME! O life!... of the questions of these recurring; 
Of the endless trains of the faithless—of cities fill’d with the foolish; 
Of myself forever reproaching myself, (for who more foolish than I, and who more
    faithless?) 
Of eyes that vainly crave the light—of the objects mean—of the struggle ever
 renew’d; 
Of the poor results of all—of the plodding and sordid crowds I see around me;
Of the empty and useless years of the rest—with the rest me intertwined; 
The question, O me! so sad, recurring—What good amid these, O me, O life? 
  
Answer.
That you are here—that life exists, and identity; 
That the powerful play goes on, and you will contribute a verse."              (Walt Whitman)