“Once you’re gone, you can’t come back.” – Neil Young
A constant theme keeps reemerging lately in the music I’ve been listening to. Regardless of the artist or genre, I’ve been very aware of a particular concept being voiced throughout the different melodies: Life and Death.
It’s as if most of the songs’ lyrics keep driving home the same point. Life is finite. There will come a time when all of our lives will end. Most of us do not know when that time will be, although I will admit, after my injury I was very sure that my end was near.
However, it hasn’t been just the music reminding me of this notion. I recently watched a TED talk entitled, “Am I Dying?” It was a short presentation given by a critical care EMT. He recalled of how he learned to be honest with gravely injured individuals who asked him that very question after arriving on scene to treat them. He went on to state that in almost every case, he noticed three patterns that emerged when individuals were faced with their mortality.
The first pattern is the need for forgiveness. Whether classified as sin or regret, their guilt is universal. For some it’s wishing they had spent more time with their families, for others it might be wishing they had tried different things. Regardless, when faced with imminent death, everyone wanted forgiveness.
The second pattern was the need for remembrance. All of the individuals needed to feel that they would be able to live on. They wanted to be remembered by others.
The final pattern touched him the deepest. The need to know that their lives had meaning. They needed to know that they did not waste their lives on meaningless tasks.
It can be overwhelming to think about the fact that your life will end at some point. Once you’re gone, you can’t come back. All of our days are numbered.
A couple of weeks ago I experienced a very powerful moment of reflection. It was a feeling of appreciation, which could almost be classified as wonderment. It occurred while at the Cleveland Browns home opener, which I attended with my Dad and great friend, Eric.
Although the Browns won in dramatic fashion (after being led down the field on the final drive by, Brian Hoyer, a Cleveland native and fellow St. Ignatius alum), there is an even more vivid take away I have from that game.
Sitting in the radiant sun for several hours I couldn’t help but think about the fact that five years ago I asked myself the same question of, “Am I Dying?” I wasn’t sure if I would ever attend another Browns game, let alone make it out of the hospital. I thought my days were numbered.
But that afternoon at the game I didn’t focus on the fact that I was paralyzed, but rather the fact that I had survived an injury that paralyzed me and came out stronger as a result. There were many moments throughout the afternoon that I almost felt giddy with an appreciation for my life.
What is truly remarkable, though, is that I later came to find out that Eric also had been reflecting on this very same concept, experiencing some of the same feelings I had. A little over a year ago he was diagnosed with Stage 4 non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma, a devastating diagnosis that unfortunately gets the best of most people. He made a miraculous recovery, now living cancer free and being able to appreciate that moment for what it was – a reminder of how precious life is and how grateful we should feel to be alive.
The week prior to the game I was visited by the Johnson family who were in town from Florida for a doctor’s visit for their son, Owen. I’ve spoken about this family in the past after first learning of the terrible car accident they were in several years ago. An accident that claimed the life of their young daughter, Hannah, and left Owen completely paralyzed.
We were able to spend some quality time together, some of which was punctuated by us hanging out with Melanie. While the tragedy of their loss will always be with them, I’m sure they would also tell you that they are grateful to be alive and appreciative of every dinner they are able to enjoy together as a family, as well as with friends.
On a side note, Owen was surprised to hear that Melanie sometimes has “accidents” when out of her cage. His mom later told me that while in church the following Sunday he said a prayer to God that Melanie would stop pooping on me. I’m happy to report that so far his prayers have been answered!
Finally, today is Christopher Reeve’s birthday. He would have been 62. It’s safe to say that Christopher Reeve’s life certainly had meaning, especially after his spinal cord injury in September 1995.
Unfortunately, as we all know, even Superman wasn’t immortal.
Christopher Reeve even admitted he was cruelly reminded of his own mortality when he told ABC 20/20, “When I first was coming out of, you know, unconsciousness and you have the thought ‘Maybe it’s not worth everybody’s trouble,’ I suggested, ‘Maybe I should just check out. And then Dana said to me, ‘You’re still you, and I love you.'”
We are all still us for a little while longer. Seek forgiveness, be remembered fondly, and live with meaning!
Stand Strong!
Scott
