June 21, 2003 (finished January 17, 2005)
It's difficult to make death humorous, unless you are watching MASH. And even then, the pathos is stronger than the humor at times.

We seem to be in an ever-increasing race to extend our life-span. And why not? Life is great! It is filled with a lot of stuff. Money, things, activities, recreation, people, job...the list continues as you process on what is important to you. There are a lot of stresses in life that make us lightly consider death as a better option, but generally, stress passes and we are back to enjoying the life we know.

If I think too hard about this, it seems incredible that we fear death so much. But we will do nearly anything to avoid it. We spend millions on health care aimed at extending our lives. We spend thousands rearranging our body parts to look younger than we are. We complain regularly about the aches and pains and changes that come with aging. Very rarely is aging done gracefully, more often than not it is done with loud commotion and wild fits.

But, what is death all about? As a Christian, death is the final point of existence in this life and the beginning of eternity with Jesus Christ at the throne of God. If I am confident that is where I will be at the point of death, why am I afraid? I can only figure that my fear comes from a lack of full confidence in my eternal salvation.

My mother died at the age of 48 from cancer. She had a deep and constant faith with many exciting encounters with God in her past. She taught me a lot about being a Christian throughout the years we were together and her death taught me a final lesson in looking forward to heaven.

We had two weeks notice of her impending death. (We had been dealing with the cancer for 2 years, but the certainty of death was a new issue.) We came home from work one evening and she sat us down to tell us she was going into the hospital the next day and wouldn't be coming home. This was the end. I can remember sitting there completely stunned and thinking to myself that nothing else in all the world mattered. Not my petty concerns, not the business, nothing. All that mattered was that she knew how much I loved her and that I wanted to be with her until her death.

Those two weeks were hard, but they were amazing. When I was falling apart in tears over losing her, I would lay down in her bed beside her and sob while she held me. When I had questions, she would spend hours answering those questions for me. For example, "Mom what happens if there is no heaven?" She was shocked. It seemed so obvious to her. "Diane, I know that I'm going to heaven, but if you think about it logically, and there is no heaven - what is that going to matter? I'll be gone and I'll never know." Well, duh. Of course!

She died nearly two weeks later on a Friday morning at 2:20. About 20 minutes before her body finally quit, there was a strong sensation of her spirit leaving her body. Her breathing changed, there was nothing more of her personality in that shell. It was over. It was cool to see. I knew that she was gone and where she was would be much more exciting than where I was.

A blizzard began that morning. Overwhelming amounts of snow at the end of March. We began making phone calls to family and friends and Carol and I came to Insty-Prints to make sure work was finished. Our friends had an awful time coming to Omaha because of the snow. Mom had a hideously wild sense of humor and we were certain that she was laughing uproariously at the problems our friends would have with traveling. In fact, I'm sure she hoped they would stay home. Her life had been very private and now her death would be just as private.

We had been a pastor's family throughout the state of Iowa and she had made many, many friends over the years. People were devastated that they couldn't be at her funeral, but it only made sense based on her life. She didn't need to have them present and wailing over her death. That would have been disgusting to her.

As it was, the funeral was held Sunday afternoon and I was able to lead the worship part of the service. No tears, just joy at the fact that she was already in heaven and I would join her many years down the road.

She taught me not to fear death, but to look forward to the crossing. This life is amazing and filled with too many good things to begin to enumerate, but the life to come is beyond comprehension. I miss her, but I envy her the fact that she is already seated at the throne of God amidst the angels and elders in worship.

One of the last things she reminded me of was that though it would be years before I joined her there, to her it would be like the twinkling of an eye. How I needed that perspective on my lifespan!