I had a dear uncle, Erik, who just died after a 4-1/2 year
battle with Amyotrophic Lateral Sclerosis (ALS); better known as Lou Gehrig’s
Disease. He was only 47. Although his process of dying was truly sad
to witness, there were lessons learned and tremendous growth for my family. In the end, we were able to truly celebrate
his life with a memorial service that was overflowing with more love than
sadness.
My family would probably be defined as dysfunctional in
clinical terms but somehow it works.
When Erik was first diagnosed, my family was stricken with panic. They knew nothing about ALS and had no idea
what the diagnosis meant for Erik or the family. But they came together with hearts full of
love and developed a systematic plan of care to take care of my uncle. Everyone had a night on the schedule. Everyone had a job to do. It was a beautiful show of family
togetherness.
Although he had talked to his doctors, Erik called me to
have a real conversation about ALS. As a
nurse, I was tempted to just stay clinical.
As a therapist, I was concerned about how Erik would handle the real
truth – not wanting to rob him of any hope.
As his niece, I felt that I owed him the truth. Erik and I had always had deep conversations
about every topic under the sun. So, I
wasn’t going to start bullshitting him then. Our conversation that night consisted of one
question: “How am I going to die?” After explaining the progression of the
disease and explaining that his organs would just eventually quit, there was
silence on the phone. Then Erik said, “I
just can’t believe that I am going to leave this Earth having been nothing but
a burden to my family – no wife, no kids, no legacy of any kind.”
I will never forget his words. Those words caused me to really think about
death and dying. Not the process of
death and dying but the meaning of it as it relates to the life we’ve
lived. When my uncle said those words,
he had no idea how many people’s lives he had touched and how many he would
continue to touch on his journey. He had
been, and would continue to be, an inspiration to our family. He had a fantastic sense of humor, a genuine
love for God, and a deep understanding of God’s word. I just don’t think he ever found his purpose
in life and that made him feel like he had done nothing. I would hate to die feeling as though I have
done nothing with my life.
So, I took another self-inventory. I started keeping a gratefulness
journal. I started reading the Bible
daily. I took drastic steps to take
better care of myself. I prayed more for
others than I had in the past. I sat
silently with what I know is God’s purpose for my life and I just let it soak into
my heart and soul even deeper than it already had. I thanked God for my life and the meaning it
has. And I thought about all that I have
learned – not from books but from life.
And as I sat through Erik’s memorial service, I thought about the
lessons I learned from him too.
About life, I learned:
-
- Your life is what you make it; so don’t waste
your time with foolishness.
-
- Your life must have meaning and purpose to feel
fulfilled.
-
- Your life is truly a gift from God – the air
that you breathe, the things that you see, and the things that you hear.
About death, I learned:
-
- Death does not discriminate – you do not know
the day or the hour.
-
- In death, there is transformational peace – you could
see it when you looked at Erik.
-
- Death hurts those who love you even when they
know it’s inevitable.
About
dying, I learned:
-
- It is not just a physical process but a mental,
emotional, and spiritual process.
-
- God offers you the opportunity to commit your life
to Him until your last breath.
-
- Your ability to touch people does not end.
About love, I learned:
- - There is no love deeper than the love of family.
-
- Although love does not conquer all, it can ease
the pain of life’s wounds.
-
- Love is a legacy in itself and you never know
who you’ve touched.
So,
you can make a choice today: either get busy living or get busy dying but
understand that if you bargain with life for a penny; that is exactly what life
will pay and no more. You define your
own life and ultimately, your own legacy.
Do with it what you will.
