The Birth We Call Death

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A very rare event occurred today in my life to which I pay attention for many reasons. It started with my phone ringing at about quarter to seven with my mother on the other end telling me my grandfather had died in his sleep last night. He is the first close relative to die in my life thus far, and as you might suspect, many thoughts ran through my mind. As I shaved, the title of this post came through my mind, the title of a book by Paul H Dunn that I first read at least a decade ago.

I was oddly calm. I wasn't peaceful for the same reasons as many other people were and will be, with the notion that 'he's in a better place'. Although that is true, he wasn't in a bad place here either. Sure, he was almost 90 years old and had his share of health problems. Even still, he was as active as he could be under the circumstances and still took care of his wife and responsibilities to his neighbors, congregation, and family as well as a man can who cannot easily leave his own house.

As I said my morning prayers, I thanked God for two things. First, I thanked him that I had the clairvoyance enough to call my grandparents Tuesday night in advance of a visit I was going to pay them this weekend. Not many people get to talk to the ones they love so close to the time of their mortal metriculation, even if we know they will die soon. I suppose I should be grateful for the telephone too, without which I would have had no contact with them for the past eight months. Secondly, I thanked God that my grandfather had gone as peacefully and quickly as possible in his circumstances, because many people are not as lucky.

My grandfather's funeral will not be attended by loads of dignitaries or leaders of civic groups, religious organizations, or corporations. He was a simple man who lived an ordinary and honorable life, the kind of life to which I actually aspire. I am grateful as I think about him now for the example he left us, because I am in part who I am because of the way he was and how he lived.

Most of my peace comes from my understanding of the Atonement of Christ. We are familiar with the verse quoted at many funerals from John 11:25 used frequently to comfort those who feel pain at the loss of another. Perhaps it's because of all the CS Lewis I have read and perhaps it's just a matter of my own faith, but I feel differently. Grandpa has gone, but soon I will join him.

The Bard wrote about how all the world's a stage, and the people merely players. Each has his entrances and exits. Not every exit is terminal. Like Paul Dunn, I believe that death is a birth into another world, another plane of existence, and another adventure, because our birth into this one was just such a transition from a former one.

Sure, I will miss my grandfather. We didn't interact all that often, and we didn't always agree, but he is and was a good man. He lived the rest of the phrase from John 11 often ignored in the funeral orations. Grandpa believed in Christ and it was clear from his rhetoric as well as his actions that his faith was real. Jesus told his disciples that those who believed in him would do the acts he did, and my grandfather was that type of man. Maybe one day, I will acquire some of the strengths he had that I have yet to develop, and maybe at that day, I will be born into the next life as quickly and peacefully as he was.

Godspeed grandpa, and thanks for your example, your love, and your life.