Something on my Mind: A Good Death

I don't know if anyone missed me, but I was away in Vancouver this past weekend. I had to drop everything, re-arrange an already-busy schedule, in order to attend a friend's funeral. He wasn't a young man, per se: He was probably sixteen to twenty years my senior, though he never discussed his age with me.

It was a new type of funeral—you know, burial first, then the service. I kind of like it myself. I don't question why people rarely avoid funeral services where the body is present, along with all the accompanying morbidity.

My friend—we'll call him Len—had lived a good, full life. He had raised five children, spent years growing a successful insurance business, and spent many months out of many years helping out in missions work in El Salvador, the birthplace of his wife, Silvia. In fact, he learned the language and the culture well, two things I that never did during my one-year teaching stint there.

Life had a twisted end for Len, at least during his last two years. Despite his years of service, his positive contributions to society, and his pro-active faith, he suffered from all sorts of cancer. In fact, everytime I tried to talk to him over the past year or so, I could literally hear a deterioration in his voice, cognitive skills, and perspective.

One of the greatest blows within those last two years was when he had to bury one of his daughters. He had already buried another daughter years ago, owing to some moral missteps. This most recent death, however, was owing to missteps of another sort, namely, she literally slipped on some steps and suffered some very serious head damage. She succumbed to those injuries just a few days after her fall.

As a friend and a fellow-Christian, I wonder about these circumstances that befell Len. And I know that I am not the first one to ask the big question, “Why?” Why do good people suffer bad things? Why do we suffer so much pain and disappointment, in every sense?

Then there's the question of an apparently impotent Being—I'll call Him God, if you don't mind (and actually, I'll still call Him God, even if you do mind)--Who seems incapable or at least unable to stop the pain.

Not so, of course, but we have erased God from the public arena, with Christmas being the latest event under attack. Not sure how much I can develop this thought in a column without some of the populace getting up in arms. However, I'm sure many of my readers have a spiritual bent.

Back to Len. I was amazed at the upbeat nature of the funeral service. We will all miss him, but we all had fond memories of a life well-lived, of a death well-faced. According to his understanding of the Good Book, he knew where he was going, to a place called heaven, where there is no pain or disappointment, no grief or sorrow.

And no angels strumming harps on fluffy clouds, either.

This funeral was a reality check for me at different levels. I saw many of my friends from the past and noticed how they had aged. Of course, I had too. I saw the sadness yet the joy in those left behind, and most of them shared Len's hope of life beyond life, if you will. And I saw life (and death) in a slightly new perspective: We're not here for a long time--nor a good time, by the way. We are here for a full time, and we need to make the most of it.

I feel fine today, but that may change by tomorrow. Three years ago, Len would have said the same thing. He didn't anticipate a two-year run of cancerous masses, excruciating pain, and constant trips to the hospital. He didn't know that the next significant death on his timetable within those two years would his eldest daughter.

He was here, and now he's gone. We're all better for the gift of his life, and strange to say it, the gift of his death. It was good to reflect on the things that matter, and dying is one of them. We try to avoid it, re-name it, excuse it, and deny it, but it does happen once in a lifetime to all of us, 100% of the time.

It is my earnest desire that when it comes to my turn to pass on, there may be as many people moved to tears and laughter, fond memories, and impact statements as I saw the other day. I would think you want the same.

I also want to make sure that when it comes to dying, I will have no regrets, no remorse, and give no resistance.

Something on my Mind: A Matter of Missing Meanings

As an admitted wordsmith, writer, and teacher of writing, grammar, and vocabulary, I'm into words in a big way. Words are to me as tools are to a carpenter, pots and pans to a cook, and cows to a rancher.

I am aware that words have shifted meanings over the centuries. It's hard to know what words once meant, compared to what they mean today. I'm sure there's a legitimate reason for the change.

In other words, if this were a history lesson, I would discuss the re-working of “awful,” “presently,” and “peer.” For the sake of my fellow-lexophiles, “awful” once meant full of awe (not terrible), “presently” meant in the future (not the present), and “peer” as someone in the social strata above you (not at the same level as you).

Then there are the broken rules, with texting being a good (or bad?) example--so “are you” becomes r u). Or when a new meaning is applied (eg., a “six-pack” morphs from being a small case of beer to some hunk's muscular abdomen). Does that mean if you drink too many six-packs yours becomes a one-pack? Confusing, I know, but don't blame me.

My main thrust today is about those other words whose meanings have shifted simply for the sake of convenience. Some have taken such a shift that I hesitate using them for fear of misusing them, then having some twit out there snickering—and I hate being snickered at.

Remember, for instance, when “gay” used to mean happy? It means anything but happy today. You will recall when “cool” once meant not warm. Someday I should write about the shift in the meanings of “hot,” and “chill.”

A few other words come to mind as I write this missive. These are hot-button words, loaded words, politically-correct words. My complaint is that words have shifted meaning for apparently no rationale reason. Bad enough to create confusion (the opposite of clear communication), but for those who don't embrace the new meaning, they are considered social outcasts or moral pariahs.

For instance, I remember when I was once able to use the words “boy” and “girl,” and everyone knew what I meant. Boys always dressed like boys, acted like boys, and went into the boys' bathroom. Not so any longer in certain circles. The same applies to girls.

Another word that's taken a beating is “absolutes.” We can no longer hold to absolutes apparently—and we've been told that in absolute terms. There's a serious flaw in that camp, whereby those who claim we can no longer be absolute about anything anymore...state it absolutely. If absolute doesn't mean rigid, firm, and definite, then don't ream me out rigidly, firmly, and definitely. That's called a double standard; worse, it's called hypocrisy.

Whatever happened to my next word, namely, “tolerance”? Tolerance used to mean allowing for differences, putting up with opinions and viewpoints opposed to your own. I think I've done my fare share all my life. However, today I must “tolerate” certain lifestyles, habits, and vices, but notice how those who demand tolerance of me are, well, not very tolerant of my view, if it's different from theirs. Hypocritically, tolerance seems to go only one way.

Worse yet, I hear how we must be tolerant of each other and allowing for differing views (repeated for effect, thank you), but then it stops when it comes to same basic moral issues. In fact, I am seen as an enemy of the state for having a differing view.

Have you thought of the shift in the meaning of “choice”? The term “pro-choice” apparently means balanced, wise, and selective. Nothing, of course, could be further from the truth. It simply means to choose to kill a helpless baby, conceived by selfish, unrestrained sex. The correct term is pro-death. Even writing this term should get a few people upset (which is not my intention), but it is the correct term. Sugarcoating it with fancy talk doesn't change the meaning behind the message.

So, when it comes to absolutes, tolerance, and choice, it appears their current use goes only one way—the opposite direction, you might say, from all civil, rational thought. By adjusting the meaning, moral imbalance and ambivalence becomes the norm.

The list is endless, or at least so it seems, so I must wind up. One more word: “friends.” Thirty years ago, friends were people you felt safe with, dropped your guard with, got deeper with—usually in person and over coffee.

These days we can have 200 “friends” on Facebook. There are some noble uses of Facebook (quick dissemination of news, for one). But equating folks who make regular, shallow comments on a computer as “friends” is a stretch. Not sure I want to be friends with those who spend inordinate amounts of time hanging out over a computer screen.

So what do you think, wasn't this a “swell” column?

Something on my Mind: The Worst E-Word Ever

In a world of human rights, preferential treatment, and “me-first” mentality, I am happy to announce yet another winner in the “worst-word-for-that-letter” category. These words are meant to tease and provoke you. If you're better for it, then I'm better for it, as I will have reached my goal.

You may recall that we discussed the F-word recently. Now we look at an E-word. With the help of an active, creative mind, I may actually make it through the alphabet over the next, say, year or so—depending how much the wit machine gets lubricated.

When was a kid, I had a lot of “E's” on my report card: A friend told me that “E” stood for “excellent” and that “A” stood for “awful.” Needless to say, I felt very, very good about my grades for years. It wasn't until my third go-round in grade nine that I clued in to the realities of the grading alphabet.

While E could stand for a number of words, I suggest it stands for “entitlement,” that sense that you deserve something that you don't, or that snitty, arrogant sense that something should be yours.

In other words, it's the assumption of rights without responsibilities.

In a free society (something we once enjoyed), there should be a general catalogue of privileges that all people rightfully enjoy. I speak of freedom of (and from) religion, of safety in everyday living, of respect and dignity. These go without saying; however, they are not the thrust of today's column.

Let me expand a little: In a free society, I should have the right to worship as my faith and conscience (and Bible) allows, and so should you. There should never be a heavy-handed, top-down demand for a a state faith, a confined truth, or a denominational standard—not to be confused with an ultimate faith, truth, or standard, of course.

The liberty to worship God is a timeless opportunity that has been a hallmark of every free society for the past 10,000 years. When that freedom is eroded or even encroached upon, that society is less free than it realizes.

Beyond the scope of so-called religion, I think of personal safety. There is a fundamental principle that allows me to be able to protect my family and possessions from anyone who would endanger us. That's why gun control is so flawed.

I hesitate to use the word “entitlement” when discussing the above, unless I recognize the complimentary qualities of rights and responsibilities. Disconnect them, and it's seriously flawed.

You see, when you take on a new job but expect the same rights that a twenty-five-year veteran has, that's flawed entitlement. Or when you walk into any relationship—dating, marriage, employment, ownership, etc.--with the sense of receiving all the rights but none of the responsibilities, that's flawed also.

The shoplifter will feel he or she is entitled to have the item (rights) without paying for it (responsibility). The philanderer will want the gratification (rights) without the duty of fidelity and parenthood (responsibility). The lazy student wants the good grades (rights) without the effort (responsibility) to earn them.

My way or my demands, these assumptions of personal rights, are components of entitlement, and they contribute to a myriad of challenges that plague our planet today. If we are ever going to discuss human rights, we should really discuss human rights and responsibilities—but we never do.

Unfortunately, there are too many examples all around us: For starters, road rage (= my right to harass you because you irritated me) and abortion (= this life growing within the womb is going to destroy my pleasure, so I must destroy him or her).

Let me add a couple more: bullying, namely, the right to harass others without taking responsibility; petty lawsuits, where when there is a mere whiff of an offense, it goes to court. There's more, but I'll refrain for now.

I can see that learning through life's lessons and working with a variety of people is one of the best ways to offset this evil of entitlement. If nothing else, I think I am at least entitled to that opinion.

And for that matter, maybe I was “entitled” to those crummy marks in school, after all.