Death becomes me
I’m dying. Benjamin Franklin once said that only two things in life are certain and those are death and taxes. And while some of us do manage to somehow run away from paying VAT from time to time, there is no hiding from the Grim Reaper. It’s all a matter of time and, for all of us mortals, the clock started ticking from the very first day we arrived in this world in our birthday suits. I therefore think that it is accurate to say that I’m dying — in fact all of us are. We just don’t really know when the process will be completed and we finally bite the dust. My triglyceride levels notwithstanding, I’ve always believed that I’d live for at least 33 more years or at least until I’m 80. After all, my dad reached the age of 79 whereas my mom will be celebrating her 90th birthday this coming July. Yet the recent sudden deaths of some prominent and seemingly healthy individuals of my generation have made me reconsider that assumption. More so when two relatives close to my age discovered that they may have heart problems. And so here I am, as morbid as it may appear, wondering these past few days if death will ever become me.
Even though many of us believe in an afterlife, most people are scared of death. There is, of course, the concern about the pain that may be involved. Secondly, there is the fear of the great unknown. Shakespeare describes death in Hamlet as “the undiscovered country from whose bourn no traveller returns” and thus makes cowards of us all. Third, even if one is confident of a quick and painless exit and of not ending up in a place with absolutely no air-conditioning, there is still the dread of not being able to see your loved ones again in a form that you will recognize and remember. In my case, this is my greatest fear. My fondest hope is to be able to grow old with my wife and to stick around long enough to see my children start their own families. If for some reason I die early, I can see myself becoming a cranky old ghost who adamantly refuses to “cross over into the light to the other side.” Well, at least not unless my early demise was due to having to pilot a nuclear bomb-containing space shuttle and explode it on an asteroid hurtling towards Earth, thereby saving humanity (and also having thousands of high schools all over the world named after me). Seriously, however, I certainly don’t want to die anytime soon! And so my initial reaction to my “death thoughts” was to shock my wife by threatening that I was going to become a vegetarian, compute how many additional life insurances I could afford to buy, and plan on stopping many of the things I plan to do or am currently doing so that I can “relax” more. But then I realized that doing all of these things out of fear of dying would ironically mean that I would have to also stop living. Now, that could be worse than death.
The battle cry of a famous Lakota Indian warrior, Crazy Horse, was said to have been “Hokahey (Let’s do this or Let’s roll)! Today is a good day to die!” Another warrior of old, the ancient Japanese samurai, believed that the best way to live life was by constantly preparing oneself for an honorable death. Since death could come at any moment, every single second in life was a precious gift that should be savored and used to become a better warrior, a better person. The samurai described their code as the “Way of Dying.” I think, however, that it can also be considered a “Way of Living.” For in the end, I think that the best way to deal with death is to simply live life to the fullest every single day. That does not mean that we should all just strive for a life of leisure. Yes, we should enjoy life, but we also ought to take and do the best that we can with everything that life offers us. If we do that, we can then face death fearlessly no matter when or how it comes. Crazy Horse was right. Today is a good day to die. But it’s not because of any death wish but rather because today is also a good day to live. Hokahey!
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