For the fourth time in a month and a bit, I have been reminded of death, and dying – particularly dying young and what those who survive are left to deal with.
The first of these was listening in to a thanksgiving service for S, someone I had only loosely known from church over the past year. Well into her retirement, she had lived a long, full life, one which lots of her friends and surviving family came together to celebrate. The sense was very much one in keeping with having lived her eulogy, rather than her resume.
Two had Nigerian connections, passed relatively young, and left young families. Being somewhat closer to these, I got some insights into the events which led to their respective demises, none of which did anything to ease the sense of their lives being cut short in their prime. The older of the two was just past fifty and passed from a health event which should have been caught and addressed at the hospital he checked himself into when he started feeling poorly. The younger, in his early forties, was taken away by an incident at work. Particularly irksome was the fact that the work place tried to play fast and loose until the family threatened to involve the police.
Both have left relatively young families behind. With extended schooling ahead of both, a key questions which lingers is how their future needs will be met going forward, given there are at least fifteen years in one case till the children involved reach an age of being able to stand on their own feet. There are wills to be read, property to be divided up, and the added complexity of siblings and parents with strong views on the path forward. Thankfully, this is all being amicably handled unlike the more public case of a Nigerian banking bigwig from a few years ago.
Today’s reminder was a thanksgiving service for another life cut short, someone of a similar age to me with a family of a similar age left behind. Listening in as different folks came up to say their piece celebrating his life, I couldn’t help noticing the similarities, and pondering what the family left behind will have to deal with. Losing my mum in 2014 has been once of the most consequential events in my life, for better or for worse. I can only hope these fare better!
With a not-milestone birthday looming, the one from Psalm 90 about numbering one’s days seems relevant. That and a pressing need to get my will started!
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