Daily Theme: Death

Yesterday I couldn't help but think of a book I read earlier in the year, titled The Book Thief. In it, Death does some narrating and in one passage the comment is made about "gently collecting souls"--some are suprised . . .some tired . . .and some ready. In the book, Death also notes the color of the sky when "carrying the souls from their bodies," and I couldn't help but notice the stormy, slate-grey sky . . .ominous and pregnant with rain.

Yesterday, Death was busy collecting souls in this corner of Milwaukee. I went from one code to another, the patients dying at each with the families left in shock, whispering "She was sitting up and talking this morning," and "He was laughing with me yesterday . . . ." Their voices trailed off and tears fell. Some took to wailing; consumed with the loss of a son. Others simply looked out the window.

And I thought of Death, taking the souls up into his/her arms--most of them probably quite surprised (with one ready and willing) . . .and I contemplated this cycle of life and death; how natural it all is, even when it seems as though it shouldn't be. And I thought of my own relationship to it, how death is so much a part of my daily life . . .and that this, too, feels surprisingly natural as a hospital chaplain.

And yet I know, too, that if anything should happen to my parents, my brother, my friends--I will whisper in disbelief . . .and rage . . .cry . . .even look out the window in silence.

Natural and unnatural, Death will come to carry us off, and someone we loved and who once loved us, will feel the loss in an acute way. All the while, the sky spills its color.