Denny, my painting from a photo of him somewhere in mid-life. (Click it)
My last Blank Slate announced the death of my father. I’ve been grateful for all the comments that followed. The memorial service honored him richly. Happily I had prepared a list of his praises some years before and read them at his 70th wedding anniversary. I always think it’s too bad a person can’t hear his own eulogy, so I made sure he knew at least my sentiments back then.
Though my dad was ready to go and we were ready for him to, tragically we experienced another death right in the midst of it all. Denny was the husband of one of Anne’s closest friends, a man in good health, good spirits and with no warning signs. He went to the hospital for something supposedly minor and never came out. We’re all still in shock; his family, still numb.
The funeral was on a golf course, on links he’d played just two weeks before. After bagpipes and taps and military honors, a close friend spoke, then each of his three adult children, followed by his wife. Some of his golfing friends said later it was the most meaningful funeral they’d ever experienced, particularly with the remarks from the family.
At a reception afterward, others were given opportunity to relate some remembrance. Through it all we came to realize how narrow had been our particular perspective of this very expansive man.
Both funerals illustrated those seemingly stark scriptures, It is better to go into the house of mourning than to go to a house of feasting, and the day of death is better than the day of birth.*
Both men left legacy. Both lived honorably. Both left family . . . unique human beings that would not be here otherwise. And both modeled an integrity for others to follow.
But here was a major difference. In the case of my father, at 97, alone, his faculties wearing completely out, he was ready. For Denny it was different. Just 70, a recently retired medical doctor, he had lots of living still in him. Whether he was ready, we don’t know. We know we weren’t.
Another from Ecclesiastes: Death is the destiny of every man, the living should take this to heart.*
I’ve sometimes thought we should start each day with, “If this were my last what would I do, what would I not, what would I say, and to whom?”
It’s not for morbidity; it’s for preparedness.
After that, have a nice day.
______________________
*Ecclesiastes 7:2,1
Our Lives Together
Its About Life
8:38 pm
I agree with you wholeheartedly, Hyatt… especially the recent generations, we seem to see people living wt a “No fear” mentality. And as one of your favorite authors would say, “The beginning of wisdom…” well you know. How dare we live as if we are promised X number of days. No, not morbity, wisdom. Thanks for the timely reminder!
9:02 pm
well written. so glad his service went so beautifully. hard on all counts. missing dad today.
10:03 pm
Wow…very timely Hyatt! Mike went to Chicago to bid goodbye to his 93-yr-old Dad who graduated to heaven just yesterday. I will join my husband tomorrow for the memorial service on Tues. Even though I didn’t know my father-in-law very long, I know he also left a wonderful legacy, lived honorably and with integrity. All with a twinkle in his eye;-)
Thank you, as always, for your timely wisdom, Hyatt.
Kathy Moore
4:15 am
Dear Hyatt,
Understanding that our days here on earth are numbered and only God knows when we will be called home, gives me more of a sense of urgency to share my faith in Jesus.
Your story about your father and Denny reminded me to start taking action, look for divine appointments every day, and start walking the talk that Peter challenged us to do in 1 Peter 3:15
“But in your hearts revere Christ as Lord. Always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope you have. But do it with gentleness and respect.”
Thanks for the reminder.
Jim
6:51 am
Thanks Hyatt. I hope the urgency of days gives me boldness and wisdom in sharing with my unsaved family.
7:40 am
I am so sorry for so much loss for you and Anne lately. I am happy though to hear that you went to the house of mourning and learned such pearls to pass onto us. Thank you. I should say reminders… Thank you for sharing. We are with you in prayer. That this time would be one that would bring you a closeness to each other that was not there before and that it would be a light to light your path even brighter for the Lord’s work, especially in the light that life is like a wisp of air—- so fast… We must live it fully and for the Lord. Love love Lisa
10:44 am
Thanks for this note, Hyatt. We are in the midst of two dear people close to us who are in the midst of serious health issues. The reminder to say the things we can bless people with each day is a good one. Glad that both services brought something to those who remain. In life we need all the nurturing we can get. May you and Anne be a comfort to your family and your friend’s family.
Francis
9:06 pm
Been thinking about your father, your mother, you, for many-a-day now. Denny’s death is a regretful addition to my collection of thoughts. Your painting of him is an especially good one, according to me. Although I did not know him, he even looks familiar. Or maybe it’s your trademark brushstrokes. Or both. In any case, I have no words to add, because yours strike me as so authentic, complete, loving, wise. I intend to go sit with Ecclesiastes for awhile now…and then linger for awhile more. Thank you for the way you share with us, Hyatt.