A while back I began one of my short novels with these words: “Sometimes a man’s great expectations come down to very little at the end. A few minutes’ relief from the pain. A few words of comfort from someone he trusts. The thought that he’ll be fondly remembered by someone.”

I had hoped to express a little of the feeling a dying man might have. I must have been partially successful because the well-known American poet, Harvey Stanbrough, who had just been nominated for the Pulitzer Prize, said he felt compelled after reading the passage to write a poem in which he said, “How grandly you spoke of love yet never used the word.”

When I wrote that story I had no idea those words would apply in a very personal way to me and my life. Most of us have read at one time or another of the ending of life, but almost always from an outside point of view. I don’t recall ever reading of the winding down of one’s own life span. My immediate thought was that such an accounting might well be of interest to others who will, at some time, be faced with the situation themselves.

So I intend to put before you an honest recounting of one man’s thoughts and actions as he faces his coming and inevitable encounter with the Grim Reaper.

My purpose in this accounting is not self-aggrandizement. There is no particular glory in one’s demise unless it is in some heroic act and self-sacrifice. At my age and condition that is extremely unlikely. Nor do I intend it to be maudlin. If it comes out that way, it is due to lack of skill on my part.

After having been blessed with a normal lifetime of excellent health, I was never given any warning of its coming to an abrupt change. A routine backache turned into emergency, life-endangering surgery for an abdominal aortic aneurism. This surgery, I was informed by my surgeon (after the surgery, not before), had a 2 percent survivability average.

In quick succession, additional maladies began to afflict my suddenly vulnerable body. A vicious assault on my body by its own immune system put me flat on my back with rheumatoid arthritis. An ensuing tussle with chemotherapy left me weak and debilitated. I began to accumulate disorders like the school beauty does prom invitations.

I had prostate cancer, a right hip replacement, rotator cuff tendon pull, sleep apnea, peripheral neuropathy, atrial fibrillation, diabetes, hypertension and a heart attack with stent insertion. To top it off, I then had to replace my left hip. This all led to a handful of pills twice a day which brought on a host of side effects.

I accumulated a cadre of physicians including a general practitioner, rheumatologist, cardiologist, podiatrist and a plethora of other specialists.

Other than that, my recent life has been uneventful.

A while back, I complained to my general practitioner about a lack of progress in making a health comeback. His reply was not at all what I wanted to hear. 

“It appears you’re in that old downward spiral that we don’t seem to be able to stop.”

My reaction was a little startling to myself. Oh! We’ll just have to see about that.

My feelings are not at all what I would expect and not what I suspect they would have been had I been confronted with such a statement at a younger age. I have lived a reasonably full life in which I have been able to do pretty much what I wanted to. My bucket list is fairly short.

It’s not that I’m in any hurry to come to an end of this mortal coil, but neither does it fill me with a terrifying dread. I suspect the reason rests a great deal in the state of my faith. 

I believe in an afterlife which I don’t fully understand but which will be directed by an all-powerful, forgiving and loving God. I believe that Jesus Christ became the son of that God and willingly sacrificed Himself to take away the guilt of my many sins.

The many maladies that have descended on me here in my latter days have been a powerful learning experience. I have learned that one can live with a fair amount of pain without it disrupting his life completely. 

As the apostle Paul was told by the Lord, “My grace is sufficient for thee.”

I have learned that there is no shame in accepting help when needed with grace and dignity, and to do so blesses both the giver and the receiver.

I have learned that things I once would have valued fairly indiscriminately can be separated into what is eternal and good, that which is good but temporary, that which is trivial and not worth pursuing, and that which is off the mark and should be avoided.

I have learned that most people are not only willing to do good things but actually take pleasure in it.

I am eternally grateful for having had the opportunity to experience these extra days of learning and sharing rather than chasing an elusive bucket list of trivial and temporal pleasures.

Forgive me for using myself so blatantly throughout this accounting, but I am the only one about whom I can accurately pry so deeply. May you always know and walk in the pathway of the eternal God. 

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