On Life and Living

On September 24, I was trekking through a wildlife habitat management area near the south end of the Big Horn Mountains. Covered in steep terrain, canyons and low-lying shrubs, thousands of acres provide protection for elk and mule deer in the form of a winter range. With eyes expectant and searching, we scan the ground for possible antler sheds from the previous winter's inhabitants knowing full well that chance is slim to none. What this outing is about is more of an all-out appreciation of crisp autumn air, deep canyons, rough roads and all that the words "great outdoors" encompasses. 

A Fissure

In the past when I dared entertain thoughts of this day, my mind would paint images of uncontrollable grief and heart wrenching sobs. I am so bothered by Death! And yet a conduit of connection through my clothing, activity and Nature's peace keeps such things at bay. 

Oh, the tears will come but not for the reasons that made sense before Death and Dying pay their respects. Tears come the day I look in and actually see my father's flannel shirts (his uniform of sorts) hanging in his closet. And then there is the day I intentionally venture alone down the basement stairs to just be in his space, to be open to whatever I might see and feel.

I am struck by his space. Struck deep. So deep a bit of a crack forms on my soul from which I haven't recovered from yet. Before I step off the last step onto the cold cement floor, I pause to try and soak in what is before me. That faint cracking of soul becomes a fissure as it lengthens and deepens. The entire basement shouts its vastness from my perch. It looms larger as my brain registers how small my father's life was. Physically it hurts to see how little space he demanded. How little it took to make him happy.

Five shirts hanging in a closet. A corner in a basement to work and create and play. A wife for company and care.

I struggle to comprehend its meaning.

Instead of that fissure healing over the weeks and months that follow, its veiny crevices spread and encompass my entire heart. The edges are rough and real. I know I am trying to understand something heady and spiritual with limited, physical resources. My current occupation as a CNA and HomeHealth aide keep the irritation raw and at the forefront of where my fragile humanity resides. Because of my job I have entered many homes of the elderly. Over and over, I am confronted with what translates as "lack, barrenness, or need" at first glance. But an hour or two with the resident offers a better translation of the scene to "how little one requires to be marginally happy in this life." Or even, "How little one needs to survive."

It is shocking really.

Some form of shelter. A chair. A change of clothes. A bed. A meal. A couple dollars.

It completely goes against the anxiety, striving, hoarding and investing we feel compelled to take part in. The life-sucking "planning for the future if one is wise", if you will.   

Or Is It Life and Living?

In my recent dealings with Death and Dying (and the dread/fear that accompanied it through loss of beloved family members) I finally conclude the issue at stake here is actually Life and Living. When a life passes from this one to the next, perhaps heart wrenching sobs are reserved for a life wasted or not lived well or a life tragically ended.

As we sort and pack my dad's worldly possessions, I can't help but notice how scarce a pile it makes. Salty tears quiver on my lids as my eyes memorize the humble items treasured by this man. He took up such a miniscule space on Earth and now he takes up none. My brother interrupts my revelatory musings. He tells of a rare moment of gravity, a moment between father and son when Dad reminisces on all the adventures they have had together. And then further reveals his appreciation for a life well lived by saying he has done everything he had wanted to do in this life with the exception of going on a safari in Africa. He lived a good life and enjoyed it.

Imagine that! Having done everything you wanted to do with one dream to keep you interested and intrigued with your future?! Isn't that enviable?!

I change my thinking of him having lived a small life to agreeing with him that it was pretty grand indeed!

And now I see it all the time. Folks nearing the end of their journey with very little to call their own but content that this is where their story led them. Few seem rattled by thoughts of death and dying. Most are still simply enjoying the season of Life and Living.