Reflecting on the Endgame

Head in Hole

I apologize if my absence from the blogosphere has inconvenienced anyone. I realize it's been a bit since my last entry. I've been attending to a few things: most of little consequence but needing to be done, and a few matters of true substance. It is these latter items that had me stick my head in a hole in a tree.

There are some moments in your life where things fundamentally change -- some are good, some are bad, some just are.

Marriage is one of those times. You go along single and the world looks one way, then literally in an instant, you're married and the world is different. You are no longer single, you are married, and even if someday you or your spouse walks away from that, you can never completely leave it behind. That person is never "someone I used to know," they will always be "the ex." Hopefully therefore, marriage is something you had put a lot of thought into before jumping in.

While I had my head in the hole during the past couple of weeks, I've had to think about my own endgame. I'm not ready to die, and don't want to die any time soon, but I had to do some serious thinking about the eventuality. I wanted to clarify how I felt about dying, and I didn't want that process to take place for the first time on my deathbed. And I needed to know what Sand was thinking, since we are in this together until the end.

This is not about picking out the caskets by the way, although I imagine that could be part of the discussion eventually. This is about whether or not I am willing and able to accept death as a natural process. When the time comes for the kids to put me on the iceberg and wave goodbye, do I resist or do I graciously cooperate?
If tomorrow I found that I had a disease that would kill me if left untreated, how should I proceed?

God is good and I am at peace with my decisions, and for the moment at least, I can pull my head out the hole and rejoin the world. It's that time of life, and it is what it is.

Getting It Right

I don't know this woman. I can't say what she's been through. I can't tell you if she had a good day or bad day, or how she felt about photographers.

What I can tell you is that she is old.

I've been dealing with family matters a lot in the last couple of weeks, and like most families, mine is getting older.


It seems to me that one of the biggest challenges we face as we get old is resisting bitterness. Life isn't easy even when you have a good life. Inevitably, there's hard work, pain and death. It can be difficult to keep a proper perspective about the unpleasantness in life.

When I am old and toothless, I want to be able to smile and laugh about the things I think I remember. And, I want to look back at this blog and let it remind me that there is a good possibility that what I remember didn't happen the way I remember it.

So, Bernie, if you're reading this and you're really, really old, do yourself a favor and remember that it was all good, you loved and were loved well, and that nothing else really matters all that much.