The Good Neighbor
You get to a point in your life when death becomes personal. I remember the first time this happened to me. It was when 'Moo Moo' died. She was a 'friend of the family' of a friend of mine. I was touched by her death because 'Moo Moo' was a contemporary of mine. 'Moo Moo' was someone I had seen often and had talked to often. Somehow, I don't even know why, her death seemed connected to the reality of my own death.
Certainly, death had touched my life before that. My grandmother when I was about 8. Cathy died in her sleep when I was about 10. Marcia and her best friend drowned together when I was in high school. Renette from across the street died from a brain tumor. My roommate flipped his car while he was drinking when I was in the Navy. Then there was Raynetta's husband who just sat down one day and keeled over.
So, I was no stranger to the reality of death in my life. The difference is that until, 'Moo Moo', death seemed to happen to other people and I was never left with its reality as a constant companion. Now this is coming from a person who had knowingly escaped the clutches of death on two occasions.
First, was when I almost drowned at summer camp when I was about 9. Some of the other boys decided they would teach me how to swim by holding me under water. I guess they thought I would grown gills or something. Needless to say the actual length I could endure this lesson was much shorter than the class was scheduled for and I began to take on water. I sincerely thought I could drink enough to last just long enough until the lesson would end but after a few swallows one realizes the futility of such a strategy. I thrashed and fought as best I could but they would not relent. I did the one thing that most people dying do, I called for my "mama". Then it happened! I surrendered my mind to the certainty of my own death. Then, and only then, did I feel a peace and serenity come over me and I accepted what seemed to be my most certain outcome. I remember thinking to myself, "This isn't so bad." It is ironic that just at that point God sent me an angel. His name was Bernard Jordan. He jumped in the pool and ended my swimming lesson by forcefully removing my teachers from the class. I was grateful to be alive, but knew I was ready to make the eternal journey clothed in that peace and serenity I had received. I wonder what would have come next if Angel Bernard would not have been there? Would I have seen the 'Light'? Would I have begun my 'Life Review'? Probably so. I remember reading that soldiers in World War II who had frozen to death were often found with smiles and peaceful expressions on their faces. I think this is the final 'gift' that life gives to you to help you deal with the realization of your own impending demise. Your very own personal administration of gall to help assuage the sting of death. Then comes that walk into the 'Light' that begins your journey into the next phase of your eternal existence.
But even then, the reality of death did not stay with me. Its nearness that day did not seem to affect me. I don't even recall telling anyone about it that day.
Second, was in August of 1979 when Al Skinner died in my place. I say that because at the last minute a decision was made that changed the recipient of death. When I was in the Navy I would often have to travel. And on one occasion I met a gentleman who invited me to church with him one night. I accepted his invitation and was picked up by him in his two door VW bug. We also picked up Al Skinner. I remember Al Skinner as a vibrant older man who seemed to love God fervently. We attended church and afterward went to the car to leave. On the way there I had sat in the front. So, as the car door was opened I hesitated. I actually stopped and thought about which seat in the car I should sit in. I decided in that moment that I would let Al Skinner sit in the front and I would find some comfort in the rear seat. As we drove we observed a young white man about 19 years old, with sandy brown hair and a face too worn for his apparent age, who was hitch-hiking on the side of the onramp to the highway. I remember he had on a faded red shirt. This was back in the days when it was still OK to pick up hitch-hikers and the driver, in his evangelistic fervor, suggested we give the guy a ride and pulled into that section of the roadway between the onramp and the main highway. The young man ran over to the vehicle and Al Skinner got out to let the man into the rear seat with me. As I looked up and moved over, there was an explosion of noise and motion. The next thing I remember was seeing the young man, in his red shirt, and Al Skinner, in his yellow shirt, laying in the roadway...dead! The passenger side door of the car had been peeled to the front, right where they had been standing, as we had been side swiped by what I was told to be a drunk driver. At one point, I remember seeing the lady who had hit us sitting in her car frozen behind the steering wheel. I don't know what ever happened to her. But that was back in the days when not much happened to drunk drivers. To this day I am very squeamish about stopping my car on the highway.
That one sent me for a loop because I thought about how close I had come to being the one who would have been out of the car letting the young man in. I had minor head wounds from debris in the car and that was back in the days when they kept you in the hospital for 'observation' for days at a time. So I had plenty of time to think about life and my purpose in it. Those thoughts lingered for months as I tried to understand the why's, why nots and what nexts of the situation I had gone through. I wish I could tell you I had some great revelation that has redirected my life from that point on but that was not the case.
But even then, the reality of death did not stay with me. Its nearness that day did affect me to the point that I was concerned about it, but I was more concerned about the meaning of its visitation than its actual visit.
That all changed for me after 'Moo Moo'. My own mortality became a constant companion for me when she died. It was the first time I realized there was an actual END for me too. That reality sunk in hard that day. It was as though death had become that nasty neighbor who moves in next door. You know the one you see moving their stuff in and you just feel a sense of dread that they have moved in next to you. Though not in your house you can hear what they are doing all of the time and they take up residence in your mind. From time to time you see them but you don't dare speak. Not even the usual cordialities because you really don't want to give them a reason to become your friend or, God forbid, think it is OK to come over and visit.
Since 'Moo Moo' there has been a Mardi Gras procession of people I have known who have died. There was Yolanda, a unique passion in my life; then there was 'Man' and his brother 'Tiger', mere children cut down by the violence of urban crime; then there was Sam Poole, a class mate, a co-worker and a friend and then there was Tommy Felix, a friend and co-worker whose death created a void in many people's lives; then Linda lost her only begotten son in the war and just the other day it was Keith, Vicky’s husband and best friend. Death is very busy and extremely proficient at what it does.
Somehow though, I think as time goes on people begin to accept their unwanted neighbor's presence in their lives. They greet death as it goes about its business and they go about theirs. Death no longer looks so strange to them. Death does not appear to be so weird anymore. I think you begin to accept your neighbor's purpose in you life. I think in time, your neighbor becomes your friend. I think this is when people look death in the face and are not afraid. I think this is when people look death in the eyes and see its purpose and their destiny in it. I think this is when people see death for what it is, merely an escort across the bridge to the next life where death is not allowed to go. Death may even be jealous of that fact.
Most elderly people can sense and fear their death. It is palpable and real to them. Their age takes away any illusion of the immortality and invincibility we feel when we are young. Most times elderly people have a peace about their own deaths because they have given themselves time to reconcile with it. But the end is and has always been near to us. Death has always been, and always is, just a moment away. But death knows its business. Death knows its time and will not approach prematurely. So there is no need to fear death. And in time, you too can calmly greet it, welcome it and embrace it...like a good neighbor.
Written by:
@ewjjr
http://ewjtoday.blogspot.com
EWJJr
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