Death Comes Quickly

The moment of death comes quickly. Whether one has been ill for a time or is surprised by an unexpected end, the moment of death comes quickly. It comes to the famous – Don Knotts is a recent example – and to the common among us – who but a few know those in the daily obituaries – and to the unknown – another starving child in Kenya.

I recall sitting in a hospital room with Robert, a gentleman in his eighties. He was sleeping peacefully, a result of the medication given to fight the early stages of pneumonia. Robert’s children were at their jobs – they’d seem him that evening. I read the 23rd Psalm to Robert as he slept. Then I prayed audibly for him. I left to go about the rest of my business for the afternoon. The news was awaiting me when I arrived home – Robert had died quietly about an hour after my visit. No time left for his children. Death came quickly.

The circumstances of death are varied – the moment is universal.

The children played games amid scattered toys. The mother smiled as she walked into the kitchen to check on progress of the evening’s meal. Warm sunshine cast gentle, golden beams on the floor, spotlighting the children as they lost themselves in another chapter of make-believe.

Then came the cry, the painful cry….

The mother sped toward the horrifying sound. Next to the small table, by the patio door, lay the victim, eyes slowly closing. Her body was trembling. The mother’s embrace could not prevent the last moments of life from escaping. In a heartbeat – literally so – life was gone. Death had come quickly.

One of the mother’s sons had heard the cry and came over not knowing what to think. It was his first up-close encounter with death. He knew he could not help nor could he say anything of significance. He simply watched with a curious, pained expression. Suddenly, as if hearing a call from above, he moved back to the other children, taking them to the basement play area before they could discover the tragedy that had taken place so suddenly.

Not long afterward, the father came home, summoned by a desperate phone call. The first sound to reach his ears was sobbing from his wife. That was followed by an overly cheery son proclaiming that things were under control downstairs. The father immediately joined the mother as they knelt beside the lifeless body. So soft and quiet and peaceful. And, so cold.

Death came quickly, unexpectedly to a cat named Cricket, age 11, midnight black fur, stumpy legs, hopelessly overweight, crabby on occasion, loveable most of the time. On a perfect afternoon, near people who loved her, Cricket died suddenly, unexpectedly, painfully. Heart attack or seizure was the veterinarian’s best guess. Cricket lived a full and fun life. She was aging, yes; but she went too soon.

Death came to our house last week. It came without warning, an unwelcome intruder in the life of our family. It is often said that we should make sure those we care about hear if from us each day – through words, actions, attitudes – that we love them. We just never know when we won’t have that opportunity again. It’s true with people – it’s even true with pets. So don’t stay “just a little longer” at the office. Get home and hug ‘em all, even the furry family members. Because you never know when death will come calling.