There’s this old hippie song that goes “knock, knock, knocking on Heaven’s door.” I used to like it a lot until recently, after I got the results of my ECG and 2D echo tests, and my wife and I learned that I had a heart condition. It’s not serious. Yet. But it was a major wake-up call for me, and left me feeling that I was indeed, knock, knock, knocking on Heaven’s door. I remember my high school days, when my friends and I used to talk about how we would like to leave this world. One of my friends said he wanted to go out with a bang, and die in a spectacular car crash with him leading on the final lap of the Monaco Grand Prix. Another one said he wanted to die a hero, while saving someone else’s life. Still another wanted to be a martyr, fighting for a cause, being executed by firing squad. I remember telling them I was planning to die of old age. That really cracked my friends up. I also recall us discussing how we wanted our wakes to be. One wanted everyone to wear new wave attire at his wake, while a deejay played Gothic new wave music. Another said he wanted the people at his to wear all white. Me? I told them I definitely had no intention of dying before they did because I didn’t want to miss out on all the free food, booze and coffee at their wakes, not to mention the gambling. That statement would always leave them in stitches. Death, especially mine, was a subject I always tried to avoid. Though I never took it lightly, I also never gave it much thought. Circumstances have changed lately, and I’ve found myself thinking about it a lot. Yes, I have to admit. I am afraid. Who would not be? Death comes to us all: you, me and everyone else. Some sooner, others later, but in the end, the Grim Reaper catches up with all of us. Yes, I am afraid, not just of dying, but also of what would happen to those I would leave behind. Who would take care I don’t want to die. Not yet, anyway. I want to take care of my wife, my family, my loved ones. There are still a lot of things I want to do, a lot of promises I want to keep, dreams to realize. I know death is something neither you nor I nor anybody else can escape. Nobody one knows when they’ll be crossing over. But when my time does come to leave this world, I’d like it to be like the scene from “Meet Joe Black,” one of my favorite movies, where Joe (or Death), Brad Pitt’s character, tells Bill Parrish, played by Anthony Hopkins, that a man like him shouldn’t be afraid of death. And when I do leave this mortal coil, there’s an old hippie song that’ll be playing in my head that goes: “When I die and they lay me to rest, I’m gonna go to the place that’s best, when they lay me down to die, I’m going up to the Spirit in the sky.”
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