By Colleen Pulley
Isn’t it ironical that death causes humanity the most surprise. Why is this when it is the only thing, we will all eventually experience? It is the one great equalizer of life. You will die whether you are a king, or a pauper. You cannot bargain, buy, or cheat death. It will come, and you will leave this frail existence behind. What you perceive as happening after death is based upon your personal philosophy and religious beliefs – whether atheist, Buddhist, Muslim, Hindu, Christian or Jew.
Death and time are intertwined. The clock begins ticking when we are born; we live our allotted time; and then leave. So, are there ways to make our exit song a little less painful to our family and friends? Of course, there is. You need to have your input into what happens.
Unfortunately, death is one of life’s universal trials that often causes the greatest cracks in family relationships. This is especially true if a sibling ends up with more of a parental estate than what another sibling feels is his or her fair share. This usually happens when the parent has not left a will or informed all the siblings what is to be done, and who is to be given what. This is a clear example of practicing poor personal Stewardship. It is neglecting to manage something that is your responsibility.
Let me give you the example of my Father. He was always a very independent man. He was an example of the good Steward who is responsible for his part of the vineyard. He took care of all aspects of his life until his death at the ripe age of eighty. He made sure he passed on his wisdom and insights to his children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren.
He insured that all of his children received copies of his will, and a list of his assets several years before he died. This allowed all of us, at his death, to gather and have a meaningful visit together. It was filled with stories of our childhood, mended fences that were cracked, and gave us a chance to say our goodbyes as a family. Besides giving this to all of us, I received an additional gift from my Father.
Six weeks before he died, he called me up unexpectedly and told me he had planned a trip to Oregon to see us. He arrived four days later, and stayed for three weeks. Fortunately, I was able to arrange for other intensive care nurses to cover for me on short notice. This allowed Dad to spend time playing cards, battling with the grandchildren on the Nintendo, taking walks, playing music, and expressing the love he had for his family and posterity, He had the camera clicking, and the video playing, as we interacted. “Colleen, get a picture of this poker hand.” “Get a picture of Stephen and I playing the video games.” “Leland, take a picture with all of us together.” And so the time went by.
He left in a flurry of tears, and hugs, and whispered “I love you so much.” And then he was gone, and life settled back into the day-to-day routines. Then my oldest brother called and said that Dad was dying. He had cancer of the gallbladder.
As I took the eight-hour flight to Florida, I thought about the visit we had been given just three weeks earlier. I had noticed Dad seemed a little more tired, but I had only focused on the good time we were having. Why hadn’t I been perceptive enough to realize he was sick? Why hadn’t I wondered about the continual prompting to take a picture of this, or the conversations and insights he was giving to his daughter, and grandchildren?
He had returned home, and marked what things he wanted to go to which child. He had made arrangements for his cremation, and gave instructions to spread his ashes over my Mother’s grave, and the rest over the McKenzie River in Oregon, where he had spent many hours enjoying fly fishing.
When I got to Florida, I went straight to the hospital. He had arranged hospice to help my sister and I to care for him until he died. We took him home, five children from different parts of the country, and the Father they all loved.
He was alert for eight days, and died two days later. All of his children were with him as he approached this last part of life. All of us were able to say our goodbyes, and cry for the empty spot in our lives.
The last thing he did was open his brilliant blue eyes, and with a smile, stretched his arms out and peacefully died. His memory is always there in the hearts of those who loved him most, his family.
The way he approached his death, and the ability to ensure his wishers were carried out was an example of how an individual can be a good steward of his personal life up to the end.
So, think about your Stewardship, and make sure there are no problems left for your children and family to be burdened with when your journey on earth is done. You are the Steward of your time here. Use it well. Think about it. Until later, Colleen
Key Words – death, family relationships, my Father, children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren, his will, hospice, say our goodbyes, good steward
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