Death.......

I was reading from Thomas Wolfe's 1932 collection of short stories, "From Death To Morning" last night.  What an incredible writer he was!   His stories always have some deeper meaning---themes that haunt me and make me think for days and even months following my reading of them.

The story I read yesterday was entitled "Death the Proud Brother".   It is a story that deals with death, and how it is such an important and ubiquitous part of life.  It is not something to be feared or repressed.  It should be accepted.  After all, it is something that we diverse human beings all have in common.  We may think we are very different in color, weight, height, culture, faith, and so on; but we are all going to eventually pass on through the silent halls of death.  Our final moments may come with a crawl or a pounce, but death is unavoidable and natural.

It got me to thinking about those close to me whose deaths I have experienced---my dad, my grandparents, and a few others.  Looking back on those experiences, with the 20/20 hindsight of time, I can say that, while their deaths were a sad time, I realized deep down that it was all part of God's plan.

Of course, I never experienced a death of a loved one that was tragically sudden and unexpected.  That kind of death would necessarily require a longer and more intense period of grieving.

In my dad's case, he was 81 when he died in a hospital bed, his immediate family gathered around.  He had been ill for months, his condition deteriorating daily, until the final moments occurred.

My mom stood at the head of his bed, stroking his brow and speaking soft, loving words.  My brother and I and our wives stood watching, tears slowly falling.  After we heard his last breath, a doctor came to the room to pronounce him dead.  After examining him, she asked, "Would you like me to summon a preacher for you?"

Everyone in the group shook their heads---no.  Except me, that is.  I said I thought it would be helpful to hear some words of faith.



My Mom and Dad, Circa 1943

The man of God appeared a few minutes later.  He asked about dad's life and what kind of man he was.  Then, we all joined hands and the man of God said a meaningful prayer of comfort.  We all agreed later that the man of God had been very helpful to our emotional states.  

My Dad and His Sister, Circa 1940

Death is a proud brother, says Thomas Wolf.  It is a brother of sleep.  It is with us always.

Deep Thoughts About Old Folks.......

Front:  Mom.  Back Row (L--R) Cindy, Me, Grandson Clint

Clint and Daughter Diane

Good Monday morning, gentle readers.  I have been away this  weekend with Cindy, visiting my mom in her retirement community near Atlanta.  We departed Knoxville on Friday afternoon and returned home yesterday evening.


Grandson Clint and Son-In-Law Ron

While visiting, my daughter, Diane came to spend a few hours with us, as well on Saturday.  My grandson, Clint, and Diane's husband, Ron, were also in attendance---and we had a blast. 

Had a nice lunch in the formal dining room of the facility, and then repaired to mom's apartment for more convo before Diane and her brood headed back to Augusta, a short 2-hour jaunt to the east.

Las Vegas Night at The Ole Retirement Center!!!

Saturday evening, mom's social calendar included a "Las Vegas/Casino Night" for the elderly residents.  The poster that advertised this event read "What happens here, STAYS HERE!"  Ha.  I certainly hope so, since most of the residents are in their 80s and 90s.  My mom is 88 going on 24.

Cindy (3d From Left) Tries Her Luck at Blackjack

And the Food Was Superb

As the gala night progressed, with wonderful food, gaming tables, and live music featuring Frank Sinatra, Elvis Presley and Willie Nelson impersonators, my thoughts began to turn inward and the realization began to settle in that retirement villages such as this one are remarkable places---and for more reasons than one.

"I Lost Her To the Summer Wind..."



"Wise Men Say Only Fools Rush In...."



"I Just Can't Wait to Get on The Road Again..."

First of all, virtually all of the residents know very well that this is most certainly their last "home" on this earth.  My mom says she could never think of it as "home" though.  She says it is a wonderful, comfortable place to live out her days, but she thinks of "home" as the house we lived in for 30-something years as a family, with my dad, brother and me, and all our pets and friends over the years.

These old folks are a strong bunch.  Most of them are single, having lost a beloved spouse years ago.  Some live there as couples, nurturing each other through difficult and illness/afflicted old age.

And yet, with the knowledge that life's end is near and the future uncertain, there is a strength and inner peace to these remarkable people that causes me to admire and marvel.

There is humor, too---if you can call it that---in the daily face of death.

When my mom was notified recently that her friend, "K" had passed away in her apartment at the age of 92, she said:

"Ohhh, no!....I loved "K".  Awww....what a shame". 

Then, after a pause of deep thought, she added this:  "Oh well...that does free up a parking space...."

On the first floor of the facility is a table.   On this small and very important table there is news of the day.  When one of the residents dies (which happens very often in a place like this), a single rose is placed on the table in honor of the deceased.  With the rose, a small obituary is included.  Needless to say, the table is visited by the residents daily as they strive to keep up with the latest passings of their friends.

Recently, a mistake was made.  A bad mistake.  However, in the scheme of things it has been laughed about by everyone.  It seems that management of the facility placed a rose and an obituary column on the table---but the male resident they announced was dead was actually still very much alive.  When news of his passing reached him and his wife, they were pretty shocked.  It was also kind of cool, they said, when his wife began receiving condolence cards from their friends.  Ha.

A Death In The Family (actually, two of them).......

Those of you who follow Cindy's blog are aware of the difficult week we have just experienced.  At the first of last week, Cindy's aunt Billie passed away at the age of 68.   On Tuesday, her brother,  James, died at 57. 

James, Cindy's Brother

Billie, Cindy's Aunt (Upper Left)

The dreadful experience of death(s) in the family brings to mind the Pulitzer Prize winning novel by James Agee ("A Death in the Family"---1957).   In this autobiographical story, Agee recounts the death of his father.  He goes on to detail the family politics, petty disagreements, religious differences of the family members and various other points of contention during the days following the death.  It is a truly masterful literary work.  In 2005, Time magazine selected it as one of the 100 greatest English language literary works.

Jimbo (James) and Cindy, Circa 1956

I mention this because the same petty familial disagreements and wrangling that Agee described in his novel are playing out right here in our own family.  Who should be mentioned in the obit?  In what order should they be mentioned?  Should there be a service?  Cremation or burial?  Who should officiate?  Uncle Joe and Aunt Dora and niece Berniece all have voiced their opinions and made it known that anything short of following their opposing wishes will result in a serious family rift.  The church was consulted and they have their ironclad rules, some of which do not meet the approval of the next of kin.  Everyone involved thinks someone else should pay for the services.

Honest to God, next to a marriage ceremony, is there anything that comes close to a funeral for raising havoc within the extended family?

The Sudden, Tragic Death of Fritz Von Nosille

He was larger than life to me---a joy to be around.  And, although I was only 7 years old, I had come to know him as a joyful and loyal companion.  When one is as young as I was back then, one tends to take things for granted.  Looking back, I see that, as life extends toward old age, we learn not to take things for granted because they just might not be there for us tomorrow.  But I didn't really know that back then.

My dad named him "Fritz".  We got him when he was just a puppy.  You could say that I was just a puppy, too.  We grew together in the two years of his life.  Dad finally added a middle and last name to his first name, so that he was formally known as "Fritz Von Nosille".  I thought this was exceedingly clever, as "Nosille" is actually our family name spelled backward.

One day I was playing with my friends in the front of our Houston, Texas house.  I don't know exactly how it happened, but Fritz escaped from his back yard home, which was fenced.  He ran down the street, with me and the other neighborhood kids in pursuit.

I can see it today as clearly as the day it happened so long ago.  My precious dog, that I took for granted, didn't know any better as he ran onto the busy Southwest Freeway.  We all watched as he was crushed by speeding traffic.

I went into shock.  Somehow, my mom got the dog to the vet.  There was nothing that could be done.  It happened right before Christmas, 1952.  And it lives with me still.

Obituaries....

Over the years, I have developed the habit of reading the daily obituaries in the newspaper.  I realize that this may seem like a strange habit---even ghoulish to some--- but obituaries provide very interesting insight into how we human beings think in death.

Seldom do I run across anyone I actually have known.  Mostly, the people whose lives are laid out in the death notices are local folks who have passed away in one fashion or another.  They are of all ages, colors and faiths.  They died of old age related issues, highway accidents, heart attacks, murders, suicides, war, and a multitude of illnesses.  Death may come with a crawl or a pounce, as the poet wrote.

I bring this subject up today because a few friends and I were talking about what our individual obituaries would be like.  We all wrote up what we thought would be a good, descriptive obit for ourselves.  I wrote one for myself that briefly described my life, my passions, and the fact that I am a Christian.  Then I listed my survivors. 

A couple of guys in the group listed all their accomplishments in business and awards and honors they have received.  A couple of others went into extensive detail about where they had lived, breaking their lives down into almost yearly minutiae.

But one member of our group had an obit that read thusly":

"Joe Gordon Died today.  He was a devout Christian."

I asked him why he was so brief.  He explained that, as a Christian, nothing else was important.  His achievements, awards, and distinctions of this life were unimportant---he couldn't take them with him where he was going---and God is not interested in anything of this world.

I thought about that for a long time.  He is right, of course.

But the fact is that obituaries provide a glimpse of what we humans think is important regarding our lives.  Usually, the obit is written by someone other than the deceased.  Very often, the obit is lengthy and full of praise for the deceased because of a guilt factor on the part of the writer.

Occasionally, the deceased him/herself will write the obit before death, so that it will properly reflect his/her view of self.  This is a pride factor.  So you see we have both pride and guilt at work during the grieving process.

Sometimes, humor is injected into the obit.  This can be interesting, in that humor and death do not exactly go together.

Many obits list the survivors.  It can be interesting to note the "pecking order" of those listed.

Suicides are particularly interesting.  It often involves language that seeks to circumvent the cause of death.  Something like "Fred Jones died suddenly", or "Molly Smith passed away at home".  Discerning the cause of death is left to the reader's ability to read between the lines.

A particularly favorite expression in today's obits is "...after a courageous battle with __________."

What are your thoughts regarding obituaries?  How would your obituary read?

Stone Mountain---World's Largest Tombstone

Stone Mountain's Sheer North Face, With the Three Acre Carving of the Heroes of the Confederacy

Rising out of the plains of north Georgia, some 13 miles northeast of Atlanta, a huge granite monolith looms like an otherworldly reminder of the ancient power of Mother Nature.  The first time I ever saw Stone Mountain, I was blown away by its sheer mass and beauty.

Carved in Granite:  Robert E Lee, Stonewall Jackson and Jefferson Davis Ride Again

It juts skyward, an 825 foot high quartz monzonite/granite/granodiorite wonder.  It is 5 miles in circumference. 

On the sheer north slope is a giant carving---a tribute to the heroes of the old confederacy---depicting Robert E Lee, Stonewall Jackson and Jefferson Davis on horseback.  It is the largest carving in the world, begun by Gutzon Borglum (Mt Rushmore) in 1923.  The carving covers a 3-acre area, and looms 400 feet above the plain below.

The Walking Trail to the Top of the Mountain is 1.3 Miles Long

The top of the mountain is accessible by a western trail walking route (1.3 miles) or the skyride cable car.

The Cable Car On Its Way To The Top As It Passes the Famous Carving

When my dad passed away a few years ago, his remains were cremated.  There was a discussion among the family members as to where we thought he might want his ashes scattered.  We decided he would approve of a scattering atop this mighty tribute to nature, which was only a few miles from where he had lived.

My Dad

The family met at Stone Mountain state park one windy morning, and took the skyride to the top.  We gathered above the carving; and, as we overlooked the expansive Georgia countryside, I tossed his remains to the breeze.  The wind was quite strong that day, and the dust blew his ashes all over the top of the monolith. 


The Top Of "The Rock" Offers Spectacular Views

 Now, whenever I see Stone Mountain on my trips back to Georgia, I think of my dad.  He exists as part of our air and water and soil.  What a wonderful tombstone!