No One Here Gets Out Alive

I had lunch today with my friend John, whose young wife died of melanoma a few months ago. He's adjusting well, as is his 13 year old daughter.

He's going to the church service tonight for a mutual friend's mother, who died last week following heart surgery, at 60.

Another friend from Miami, who moved to Atlanta, died July 4, at 65. One of my consulting engineers is dying of brain cancer. I just asked after him yesterday, and was told he probably wouldn't see another Autumn.

When my father died, many friends and acquaintances tried to comfort me with words, some kind and some awkward. One of my professors, who was also a Presbyterian minister, said something that resonated with me: "Dave, we all do it."

Somehow, being jerked back into reality like that conforted me. My father didn't engage in some mysterious and scary process -- he had died, as we all will.

Of course, when a relative or friend dies, there is grieving and pain.

What's next, after this life? A young Rabbi was in my office this morning, and he said there is, indeed, heaven, where the soul is again with God. A better place.

I hope he's right, but just in case, I intend to continue cramming as much into this life as I can.

To those who have left or are leaving, I say see ya --maybe.