I know, kind of tackling a giant but certain events on Sunday got me thinkin'...
Sunday was a great day; it pretty much always is. I went to
church and learned, listened, pondered, and conversed about great topics: like the love of God for each of us,
scriptures, and the
Priesthood (the power of God here on earth).
I am so blessed to have been raised by parents who did everything they could to provide us with a solid foundation, including our family's membership in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Not only was I surrounded by people, friends, and associates of faith growing up who shared common values but I now attend church on a weekly basis (and activities on, well, pretty much a daily basis) with hundreds of people my age who I consider good friends. People who want the best for me, are happy when I succeed, empathize with me when life is less than fabulous, and definitely have my back!
This background and subsequent life experience has taught and enforced for me many eternal truths, not the least of which is the fact that my life-everyone's life-has a purpose far greater than the 75-80 measly, problem-laden, disease-ridden, difficult years we will live. I hope this is sufficient preface for what happened Sunday evening:
After a nice night with family and celebrating some friends' birthday, I got a phone call from a family member notifying me that my great-uncle (dad's dad's brother, if you follow) Charles had passed away. It wasn't particularly difficult or distressing news for me as he had lived in the midwest my entire life and I only met him on a couple of occasions going to or from our family vacations on the east coast. But I started thinking about the man he was and the life he had lived.
Devoted son, brother, husband, uncle, great-uncle, cousin, friend. A pilot-he loved telling and enchanting everyone with his flying stories. He served honorably in WWII.
Tuberculosis took one of his lungs and eventually caused his death when he refused to take medication that would strengthen the one remaining lung against pneumonia which he got last fall.
It all made me a little sad as I thought about it. He died at home, alone (his wife died last year), in the middle of the night, his home care nurse only finding him later; he had previously made the decisions to donate his body to medical science (so there would be no burial, no place for the people who cared about him to visit in his honor) and not to hold a funeral service. So essentially, all of his hard work and dedication, his entire life, would come down to a 50-75 word obituary in the local paper??
No, I quickly reminded myself...he had influenced many people over the course of his life: lovingly caring for family members, impacting young, impressionable nieces and nephews with his colorful, slightly offbeat humor and personality. Not only that, but he still lives, despite his mortal life having ended. I believe very firmly in a
life after this one and that we will have the chance to be reunited with the people we care about that have already died.
Uncle Charles lived the life he needed to, inspired the people he was supposed to, and learned the things necessary for him to now progress on a much bigger, eternal scale. Similarly, millions of people have lived lives of obscurity, not leaving a mark noteworthy for the world's standard, but I am so thankful to know each person's life is valuable and important.
