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The Departure Lounge

I will be attending another funeral tomorrow. There have been too many lately, starting with my father's in 2006 followed by another  funeral that year for a young client of mine who was killed in a car accident, a funeral for a friend, then my mother's memorial service in 2007, and my uncle's service in 2008. Tomorrow's funeral is for another client, a doctor who was jovial and good-natured and will be missed.

I have gone into a sort of of zone each time I attend a funeral or memorial service, a zone of deep thought and reverie.  It is so hard to wrap one's mind around the concept of death and to imagine not being here. I ponder how my house would still be here, my toothbrush, my books, my clothes, but not me. It is so very clear to me now that I won't get out alive, and that has made being here so very poignant. Our lives take place in a departure lounge of sorts, some of us leaving soon, others in a matter of years, still others have decades before they embark on the big journey to the big beyond. But sooner or later we all have to leave. Presidents, paupers, celebrities, royalty, next door neighbors, loved ones, millions of complete strangers, all of us, all of us depart at some point.

Somehow the even playing field, as far as death is concerned, seems to set up an entirely different set of priorities in my life, one that enhances life immeasurably. Living in this departure lounge, not knowing when my departure or anyone else's might be announced, becomes an exercise in mindfullness and reverence. Some things become more important, others less so, but everything takes on a different aura and is worthy of closer examination. Our commonality, as regards our mortality or anything else for that matter, so far outweighs any perceived differences we have. We are all in this, whatever this is, together. All of us. Curiously, that is of tremendous comfort to me.


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Reader Comments (6)

Thank you for sharing this. Beautifully expressed. Love really IS all there is and all we are. May our hearts be soft and our minds at rest so that the reverence of which you write can be present in every experience.

April 28, 2009 | Unregistered CommenterJennifer

thanks a lot dear, im very interesting for your article. im very impresing for this :)

jasa iklan

April 18, 2010 | Unregistered Commenterjasa iklan

thank you.


May 11, 2010 | Unregistered Commentergame online

Like so many families, when we suffered the loss of my mother last year we faced the difficult decision of what to do next. Because we were never willing to accept this as a possible outcome, nor did we think about planning in advance for this incomprehensible loss, we had no idea where to begin or who we could turn to.

May 17, 2010 | Unregistered CommenterAiza2010

Simply, admirable what you have done here. It is pleasing to look you express from the heart and your clarity on this significant content can be easily looked. Remarkable post and will look forward to your future update.

August 29, 2010 | Unregistered CommenterOrange County Chopper

When someone dies and you are left in this world, especially if that someone is very close to you, you feel as if a part of you has also departed. I lost my grandfather just recently and I am close to him because I spend every summer in the farm house with him. And yes when he died it was as if have of me has also died. Moving on is quite hard but we have to accept this and move on with our lives. But nevertheless, he will always be with me. I know he is happy wherever he may be.

November 17, 2010 | Unregistered CommenterJan Robert

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