Death and Loss

This seems like an appropriate topic, considering the recent string of celebrity deaths. Ed McMahan, Michael Jackson, Farrah Fawcett, Billy Mays, and others that I cannot recall right off hand. They say that death comes in threes. Well, I say that death happens when it happens. We can find any reason to conform events to our own beliefs and superstitions. But we cannot deny that death happens.

The fact that death happens has been brought even closer to home for me in recent days. An old friend from high school passed away last Tuesday from luekemia. He was only 34. Ben K. was a wonderful guy when I first met him. Full of fun and excitement. He played in a garage band, competed at the Battle of the Bands in Lincoln,NE and even recorded an album or two with that band. Unfortunately, when you graduate from high school, sometimes friends drift apart. And that is what happened here. The band went away and the friendships were strained, but when it really counted, Ben's friends were there and he was there for them. Last time I saw Ben was when our mutual friend Matt K. buried his father. That was a sad day, but having all of the old gang around was wonderful. Ben left a wife and children to carry on without him.

And the fact of death looms over my family again. My dear great-aunt Hilda is very ill. She has been sick in one way or another since May '08, but after the first of this year things took a sudden turn for the worse. Early this year she couldn't swallow anything, so she went in to the hospital. They found what they thought was a palap in her throat. When they went in to remove it they found that it was scar tissue. They scraped it out, gave her a trach and feed tube. She was told that she would have the trach and tube for the rest of her life. Poor gal, she thought she'd have a long life even after that. As did we all.

The hospice care people suggested that her children and grand children not wait until Sunday to have a family dinner with her. Looks as if we may be having another family reunion the painful way. She's only 78 years old. When she passes that will leave her older sister, Hilma, to carry the family history. She's 88. All the rest of that generation have long since passed.

Ack. I may not fear death anymore, but I still get saddened by writing or talking about it. Death is a mystery that we all must face eventually, but I am not willing to let people go that easily. Hilda is too young. Up until recently she was full of life. But I know that her time is approaching and there is nothing I can do to prevent it, just be as ready as I can to lend my love and support to her family - my family.

Aunt Hilda, I love you and shall miss you greatly when you are gone.

-Phil