My brother is dying in a Canadian hospital. He is not an old man. He just retired from a life as professor of music at a large Canadian university. He was industriously composing more music to add to the large library of compositions he had already written. None of his four children is married. He has no grandchildren. He is not an old man.
Quite unexpectedly, though, a cancer that had been declared cured returned with a vengeance, and silently, rapidly invaded every part of his body. The doctor pronounced a death sentence ten days ago, giving him two to eight weeks at most. It now appears he will not reach the lesser of the two times.
How does one act upon receipt of such a sentence? How do those around the dying loved one act – the friends and family? We are not all given time to consider the approach of death, but if we were, how would we act? I believe we would act with the character or lack of character we have built during the preceding years.
Character counts in dying, and the absence of it brings little comfort to anyone. Those who decide that character impinges too much on the life they want to live, will face death in the same way. If they chose to dull the senses with narcotics or alcohol rather than handle life’s trials with responsibility, they will employ the same drugged solution in the face of death: their own or that of another. When sobriety returns, the pain also returns. If they chose to make a habit of sacrificing integrity and authentic love for happiness, they will make the same sacrifice as they face death. If ribald jokes helped them escape unpleasant realities in life, they will use the same to escape the unpleasant reality of death. They may “rage, rage against the dying of the light” instead of exercising peacefulness, patience, and gentleness, but that will not make the trial less difficult.
Character counts in dying, and in contrast to the lack of comfort granted by its absence, a great measure of consolation may be drawn from its presence. If you carefully build solid moral convictions, and live by the courage of your convictions, that moral strength will be a consolation as you face death: yours or that of another. If you have understood, embraced, and consistently exercised love that desires what is best for the object of your love, that love will ease the trial for you and others. Compassion can be exercised in both directions, as can truthfulness and forgiveness, peacefulness and self-control.
Last year, when “Date with Responsibility” became a best-seller, I was asked repeatedly to autograph copies of the book. Wanting to add something more than just my name, I created a single sentence I hoped would be food for thought: “Build carefully, for the character you build will eventually build you.”
The character you build will build you. Whether you are faced with the predicted death of a loved one, as our family is, or you are the one facing death, as my brother is, the character you have built or failed to build will help determine how well you handle the trial.
Let me hasten to add that I believe character alone is insufficient as we prepare for death, but character does count. Character reflects what you are at your very core.
That’s the view from my chair. What’s your view?