Love & Light

Over the past fifteen years or so I have found myself with the dubious honor of writing a number of eulogies for loved ones.

A recurring theme is that none of us knows how our stories on earth will end, and sometimes the finale turns out to be quite surprising. I was thinking about this while reading about Gene Hackman and his wife, Betsy Arakawa. Tony Hillerman fans will remember that in his book, The First Eagle, the mysterious illness turns out to be hantavirus, a nod to an outbreak in 1993 of the illness in the southwestern USA. I think about hantavirus anytime I encounter lots of mouse poop—which we have plenty of here in Vermont, but so far, no hantavirus.

Brilliant, tough, Gene Hackman, ravaged by Alzheimer’s and heart disease, and his beloved wife, his sole caretaker, drops dead of hantavirus. No one could have scripted that. At least he lived until he was 95—seems a fair time to go. But his wife was only 65. Did she realize how sick she was? Could she have gotten care? Could anything have changed the outcome? These are the questions of the living as we ponder our own mortality, and the randomness that can strike, really, at any time. We can only hope that in spite of the scene, that they both died swiftly without pain.

Which brings me to my eulogy:

None of us knows when or what our endings will be. There are no final pages in the book we can skip to, nor can we fast forward to the last scene of the film. We must just keep turning the pages of our lives, with gratitude for our family and friendships, no matter how long they may last, and for all our experiences—those that shift our course and those that stay it—which make us alive and become our individual histories. No matter how much time we have, it will be fleeting in the end. We all have our unfinished to-do lists, and I encourage you to revisit those and do what you love. But most importantly, love. Love big, Love early and often. Love. Every. Single. Moment.

One of Marcus Aurelius’s meditations reads, “Consider that before long you will be nobody and nowhere, nor will any of the things exist which you now see, nor any of those who are now living. For all things are formed by nature to change and be turned and to perish in order that other things in continuous succession may exist."

Those “things in continuous succession” are us...our hearts…..our love. The story has been written a thousand times, and taught as universal tenets in every belief— what stays intact and lasts for eternity is love.

As I creep up in years and have buried many loved ones, I stand by those words. In times of ease, in times of turmoil, the sacred texts and wisdom of the world tell us to live in the now—the present—and embrace the forces of love and light. Let us do our inner and outer work and be in the grateful now. Fill our hearts and minds with love. It is, in the end, the only thing that matters.