I am not sure why I have long been, I guess some would say, obsessed with the topic of death.
I think it stems from two sources. I used to be a member of, what I now call, the Cult of Jehovah, aka the Jehovah’s Witness religion. JW’s are focused big-time on the End of the World. By the age of 8, I probably knew more about Armageddon than I knew about the rules of baseball. I think they still are. Focused on the end time. I imagine Donald Trump must be wet dream for them. Maybe The Donald has been enshrined as the Beast of Revelation … wearing his white baseball cap emblazoned with 666 in sold gold lettering.
You get the point. I grew in an enviroment where I anticipated doom, gloom, and death. In fact, I was ready to give up my life for the cause.
So, when I came across Elizabeth Kubler-Ross’s “On Death and Dying” it was a revelation — not THE revelation — but nonetheless a significant piece of my education about death.
The second reason is by far the more significant. A few months back my Primary Care Physician and I were having some kind of philosophical discussion about life. He put his right hand on my left shoulder. Looked me in my eyes. And, said, “Lyle. You know. We all die.” I laughed. For I knew that just a few years ago he had had a massive heart attack and had change his life and, especially, work dramatically. He now makes his family and family travel a priority.
I too, nearly died, August 21, 2010. When I HIT THE WALL.
People say to me, “You are lucky to be alive!” I know that luck had little to do with it.
READ MY NEXT POST to see why I say that.
