Six Life Lessons from Death

 

Death by chocolate? Chocolate skull from a chocolate museum in Antwerp.

Whenever we face mortality, that of ours or of those we know or close to us, we reflect on the opposite of it: LIFE.

As I gleaned on the lives that transitioned to the next, starting from my dad's passing in 2017, death has taught me these (or reminded me of what I knew but kept forgetting):

1. God is the end-all and be-all, the Sovereign One who holds time. It is not in our hands. Therefore, who should we trust? Our fragile minds and bodies or the One who created them?

2. The living deserves respect as much as the dead. We keep saying, "Respect the dead." But shouldn't we be more respectful of those around us who are still interactive and can respond? If we can't be kind, at least we can apologize to the living ones we offended. We must prefer that we pay respects and kindness all the time. Not at the last minute.

3. This world is not our home. So why do we chase temporary satisfaction? We have another permanent residence waiting when we are done with our purpose.

4. Simplify your life. Overanalyzing shortens our already short time on earth. Instead of thinking it over and over and complicating the overly complex wiring of our brains, the best decision stems from answering the basics: Who do you live for? Why do you do or want to do it? Will you have peace? Will your decision disobey God?

5. Say your "I love you", "sorry", and "thank you" when appropriate. Tomorrow is not guaranteed for you or your recipient.

6. Love the ones you're with. God planted them there for a reason. Just like He put you in their lives.

Just a few days ago, I was shocked after receiving the news that a former colleague and once close friend passed away. We used to do major projects together and enjoyed staging those big and small outreaches countrywide. People in the office knew that we were each other's sidekicks. We became estranged when I retired but managed to reconnect when the pandemic hit. It's one thing I'm happy we did. We chatted once in a while after that. When I revisited the Philippines last year, I was supposed to visit her before her surgery. We were chatting hours before her surgery and when she woke up after. The hospital's policies didn't allow more than one companion. The time came when I had to leave the Philippines again. Little did I know it would be our last major chat.

She was young. Full of life. But her time came. 

I hope that each of us, young or old, will not only focus on life. Death has its voice that we should hear to wake us up to a reality that we always forget will come to us sooner or later.