Meditations on mortality can inform way we live
Amid the stack of holiday greetings that filled our mailbox last month, one line stood out among the dozens of cheery, clever and heartfelt good wishes: a simple word of advice from my parents' former neighbors, Mr. and Mrs. O.
Snowy-haired, their faces creased with time, they seemed ancient to me even during my youth. When I opened the O's Christmas card, it was hard to imagine them even more advanced in years. However, I knew that lately their health had taken a downward turn, causing them to cancel even a much-anticipated get-together with our 'ohana.
Scanning their missive for news, a single arthritically penned line jumped out at me: "Enjoy life while you can."
It was an apt message in the midst of the usual holiday busyness, coupled with the prosaic stress of balancing 'ohana, work, and life's unexpected twists.
Shortly thereafter I was notified, for the second year in a row, that a relative had passed away just before Christmas, causing the jolliness of family gatherings to be tempered by the somber nature of an ensuing memorial service.
Perhaps, then, it should come as no surprise that, when looking for inspiration for my 2008 resolutions, I gravitated toward a memoir written by an archbishop who was dying of cancer at the time. New Year's is an appropriate time to reflect on the big picture, and it is said that those facing the end of life are the best teachers of how to live.
Joseph Cardinal Bernardin shared these reflections, completed just two weeks before he left this world:
With 66 percent of Americans dying without a will, mortality is not a topic easily broached in our culture. However, the end of life is worth contemplating, for it will help avoid future regrets and inform the way we presently live.
Thanks to Bernardin and the O's, I have plenty of fodder for my 2008 resolutions.
Monica Quock Chan is a freelance writer who lives in Honolulu with her husband and daughter.
Reach Monica Quock Chan at (Unknown address).
