I had an episode where my heart was racing last week, no doubt from stress, but it scared me. At least it did at first.
Let me start by saying I have absolutely no desire to die. The thought of leaving behind my husband and kids has spurred many of my late night prayers. However, as I was lying there in my bed feeling my heart go out of control, I started to realize that if I died I would get to meet the two babies I lost in miscarriage. The thought actually brought me peace and comfort. Somewhere in the deepest recesses of my soul, radiating outward into a visceral longing in my body, I miss my babies. I thought to myself, if this kills me then I’ll be with my babies and my mother today. That would literally be heaven.
Of course I was okay, but I see God’s wisdom as He gives me both a longing for what’s to come, and the knowledge that I must fulfill my duties here to be made worthy of heaven.
I’ll admit as part of my midlife crisis, some days I feel as though all that is exhilarating and new is in my past. The first half of life is all about building up—getting married, buying a house, having children. I’m starting to realize the second half will have to be about letting go.
It has already started with the kids growing up, and someday I’ll have to say goodbye to each one of them as they leave for good to get married or move away. While that thought gives me pause, having cared for my disabled father I know that’s just the start.
Except for some extra weight, I enjoy good health, stress-related palpitations notwithstanding. Yet not a day goes by where some minor ache, or stiffness, or fatigue doesn’t slow me down. I wake up many mornings with a back ache which is the true hallmark of initiation into middle age. For the most part, its just annoying, but more than that it’s the beginning of the autonomy I enjoy slipping away.
The years between being a child and getting old are the sweet spot where I mostly do whatever I want and go wherever I please. However, someday I will have to learn once again how to wait for others to bring me places, do things for me, and possibly even dress me. The power I think I have over myself and my environment are really not mine at all as I will have to let go of them one by one. Like many who have cared for aging relatives or patients, true autonomy is just a temporary illusion.
So why does God seemingly front load life with all of the good things just to slowly take them away towards the end of life?
Bishop Baron said in his series “Catholicism” that the Beatitudes are all about detachment, and I think that’s why God helps us to let go of things as we move into our twilight years—so we can detach from the things of this world and seek more what is in the next.
As I mentioned, I sometimes long to see my mother again or meet my babies. However, in my daily life while I still have so much to live for– enjoying family outings with my kids, dinner out with my friends or career successes — ts easy to forget where my true home is. But as those things inevitably fade one by one, I will mourn, become meek, hunger and thirst for God.
While I hope for heaven and mourn the things I’ve already lost, I know God will remove anything else from my life that is an impediment to him. I don’t willingly detach from what’s good in this life but I’m grateful that someday He will prepare me for my eternal home. I’ll pop an Advil and spend a little extra time cuddling my kids tonight, but ultimately death will come for what is left after age has taken everything else away. And that is assuming He gives me the privilege to grow old.
Although I don’t like letting go of anything, hopefully this time will slowly prepare for my inevitable demise. In the words of John Donne, “never send to know for whom the bells tolls; it tolls for thee.”