Stages of Death

In my own personal experience it seems that death comes in stages.

I knew very little of death growing up. My Great Grandmother passed away in 1980 but I was only 8 years old and I didn't grasp what it all meant. I also did not see her very often which was a factor as well I'm sure.

When I was a young boy around 11 or 12 one of my Dad's employees and family friend died of a heart attack at 28. I knew him really well and saw him nearly every day and liked him a lot. His death was overwhelming to me. As I saw him in the casket and saw the reactions of those at the funeral I began to comprehend the finality of death.

Then in 1989 my Great Grandmother (my Father's mother's mother) passed away from a stroke. She was 88 years old and was still very independent. She was a big part of our family. We saw her often and loved her dearly. Despite her age, her passing was a shock and it was probably the first time I experienced serious grief.

I remember watching my Grandmother grieve the loss of her mother, and my father grieve the loss of his Grandmother. It was then that I began to recognize that death comes in stages. Now obviously it isn't always as neat as I make it seem, because death is no respecter of age, but it does seem that death runs a course.

It is generally understood that children will live to see the death of their parents. As I sat there in the hospital that evening in 1989 I realized that one day it was likely that my Father would be in my Grandmother's position of mourning for his mother and I would be in my father's position of mourning the loss of my Grandmother.

This has in fact come to pass in a sense now, seventeen years later, as it appears that my Grandmother is at death's door. I am now around the same age my father was in 1989 and he is around the same age my Grandmother was at that time as well.

I guess what strikes me in all of this is that now I have moved one position up the chart, so to speak. Soon my children will witness me, their father, mourn the loss of my Grandmother, and they will witness their Grandfather (my Dad) mourn the loss of his mother.

Barring any unexpected deaths, this cycle will continue, and possibly within the next 20 years I will move one more step up the chart. I will be in my Father's place and my children will be in mine.

When I look at life this way it makes the imminence of death so real. Rather than seeing death as a distant reality it now seems only a few simple steps away.

I know this post may seem morbid but these are just some thoughts that have been going through my head lately. It makes perfect sense when you consider the words of Solomon in Ecclisastes 7:2 "“It is better to go to the house of mourning than to go to the house of feasting,"

It is during times like these, when the reality of death is so near, that we are reminded of the brevity of life and the importance of making sure that when our time comes we are ready.