Why do we have a hard time talking about death? It’s inevitable for every human being. The end of this journey is physical death. Yet we think it’s macabre to talk about it, to plan for it, and to watch expectantly for it.
My mother is eighty-nine years old. She is ready to die. Yet all around her, people say things like, “Oh, you’re not going to die. You’ll get better. We just need to fatten you up a little.” She doesn’t want to be fattened up. She wants to go to sleep and not wake up. Isn’t that the way we all want to go? Not struggling for every pain-filled breath.
I told my mom tonight that I was okay with her dying. I told her I’d miss her like crazy, but I hated seeing her in pain all the time. I said, “If you want to quit eating, quit eating.” We talked about her being ready to go. She’d be greeted in Heaven by Dad, Bobby, and her mom and dad. Her lifelong friend died nine years ago this month, and she’d be waiting there too.
She was worried about the inconvenience of her passing. I assured her that yes, death is inconvenient. But so is life. And she has the hope of waking up into Eternity with her Savior.
Mom, it’s time to go.