Taps and Reveille

I have been at the bedside of three people whom I watched give their last breath:  my mother in 1976, my husband in 1991 and Dorothy Thompson (Doris Colvett's mom) in 2010.  It is an awsome thing to be in the presence of one who is slipping from this life to another. 

The observer cannot help but wonder just what happens in that instant--is there really a bright light, the sound of angel's wings, Peter welcoming at the gate?  The Bible says virtually nothing about the time.  Stephen fell asleep.  Peter wrote about putting off his tabernacle, Paul said that the time of my departure is at hand.   The only time the word dead is used is with qualification:  the dead in Christ, the dead which die in the Lord.

So it is life's greatest mystery.  We don't talk about it much and go to great lengths to avoid it.  Yet the odds are great:  100 out of 100 die.

I like the account of Winston Churchill's funeral.  There were stately hymns in St. Paul's Cathedral and an impressive liturgy.  When the benediction was said, Churchill had arranged for a bugler high in the dome of St. Paul's to play "Taps", the universal signal that the day is over.  But when that was finished, there was a long pause and a bugler on the other side played "Reveille", the signal of a new day beginning.  And that is exactly what death is for a Christian--Taps and Reveille.

My favorite epitaph is that of Benjamin Franklin which I was privileged to see in Philadelphia:

                                                           The Body of
                                                      B. Franklin, Printer
                                           Like the Cover of an old Book
                                                      It's Contents torn out
                                         And Stript of its Lettering & Gilding
                                                    Lies here, Food for Worms
                                                    For, it will as he believed
                                                         appear once more
                                          In a new and more elegant Edition
                                                         corrected and improved
                                                             By the Author.

Fond Farewells

One of my favorite books that I have mentioned in this blog before is Famous Last Words, Fond Farewells, Deathed Distribes and Exclamations upon Expiration by Ray Robinson. It is literally a collection of the last deathbed utterances of famous people. Some are funny; some are poignant; some profane.

Here are some of my favorites--mostly poignant:

"I shall hear in heaven!" Ludwig Van Beethoven--he lost his hearing at age 31.

"Leave the shower curtain on the inside of the tub." Conrad Hilton--who began his hotel empire in Cisco, Texas.

"Get my swan costume ready." Anna Pavlova--world-famous ballerina acclaimed for her performances in Swan Lake.

"More light~" Johann Goethe--Light was used frequently as a metaphor in his drama Faust.

"Here (Washington) ruining people is considered sport." Vincent Foster, legal advisor to Bill Clinton who left this in his suicide note.

Living with Death

In our Wednesday night class, we are enjoying talking about The Last Lecture by Randy Pausch. Randy is the Carnegie Mellon prof. who is dying of pancreatic cancer. His speech has been downloaded at least 6 million times and his book about the speech is #1 on many book lists. The fact that he does not talk much about the dreariness of death makes the book easier to read.

People just do not like to talk about death, nor do they even like to read about it. I have been noticing the obits in various papers (Sherlock Holmes called obituaries "agony columns") and the euphemisms used by the obit writer to indicate death: The departed---"left this world to be with the Lord" "departed this earthly life" "stepped into heaven and the arms of the Lord" "nestled into a peaceful rest" "passed away"
and two of the most interesting: "went fishing with the Lord" "left this world for places unknown" !!!!

Writing obituaries falls to the most junior of reporters, and generally they are not works of art--but they are very good at euphemisms.

Pause and think

As a followup to yesterday's blog, here is a bit of John Donne:

Since I am coming to that holy room,
Where, with thy choir of saints for evermore
I shall be made thy music; as I come
I tune the instrument here at the door,
And what I must do then, think now before.