Death is but a word; we are all immortal

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immortalIn yesterday’s post, I mentioned I had just heard about my favorite author’s death.  I’m so thankful he’s not gone.

On bookcases in the very room I type this are more than two dozen of his books which I have read, some of which I will read again.  Through his craft and my enjoyment, Jack Vance lives on forever.

Over the course of our learning, we are introduced to the likes of Plato, Lincoln, Hitler, Parks and others.  I never knew any of them before their deaths, yet they live in some manner from my schooling and my knowledge.

It’s been a little over a decade since my Mom’s death.  I’m so grateful she is still with me.  In my mind I see her deftly arranging delicate flowers on an extravagant wedding trellis and then stopping to create a small masterpiece of colorful blooms for a youngster to bring to his Mom and refusing to accept the loose bills and coins he probably gathered by raiding his piggy bank.

Each of us live and then die as nature wills.  Few of us know how long our journey in the world may be.  But death (as far as the living know) is only the end of biological life.  Who we are is carried on by the effect we have on those around us.  True immortality comes from sharing life with others.

We cannot know that moment that makes us timeless.  Is it a bit of conversation?  A meal? Some great event or some minor incident we never thought twice of?  I see my Grandma cooking her unmatchable soup in the kitchen, waving a large knife and laughing.  I relate the tale to my nieces.  Will they remember?  In a sense, it doesn’t matter, because somewhere is the thought that their Great Grandma was a terrific cook and a fun lady.

We don’t need to be known by millions of people.  We don’t need to be paragons of great virtue or perpetrators of great evil.  We only need to live our lives and share of ourselves with our family and friends.  That is the true secret to immortality.

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