Who we truly are is revealed in the moment of our deaths. Beyond hope of reward, beyond fear of punishment, how will we spend the last moments and thoughts?
My father died alone in a hospital bed, overlooked, perhaps afraid and resentful. My mother died unexpectedly, confused and upset, her mind and inner strength destroyed by dementia. My wife died as she lived, filled with strength, love, and concern for others.
We are taught to fear death, but if we lived our lives working backwards from the moment of our death, would we lead better lives? Perhaps we would see the small things in the world before death gently takes them from us? Perhaps we would be willing to wipe the slate clean, before death wipes it for us?
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