A graceless passing
It was the first time in quite awhile that I had to work 8 hours, as a result of a fracture in my right foot I had be relegated to typically working only around 4 a day, and I wasn’t looking forward to returning to those hours; they certainly paid better, but with every passing minute I felt as if my soul was leaving my body. This day, in particular, I felt as if something was off. I anticipated something awful, but I wasn’t sure why.
About halfway through my shift, somewhere around 1pm, a customer came in asking to use the bathroom. This is a common occurrence, we don’t have public restrooms; just a porta-potty outside the building for customers. They left, but returned shortly.
The man told me:
“There’s someone in there, he’s hunched over and he’s not responding”
For but a moment I was shocked, but quickly ventured out to the porta-potty to see what it was. I opened the door, and inside there was a man. The man was dead, after going to the bathroom he attempted to get up, had a heart attack and fell face first into the corner of the portapotty, nearly in a ball. I called the paramedics, but there was nothing to do. I simply watched them pull an old man from a portapotty onto the cold ground, with his pants still down to his feet.
It disgusted me; not the dead body, nor even the manor of which he died. It was simply the sight; as if his body had disgraced his soul, allowing him to die in such a pitiful way for someone as pitiful as me to find. Surely, for this alone he must have afforded the privilege to arrive in paradise? I weep for him. Even now I know nothing of the man, the police never told me his name or if he had family. What would his family think of what they saw? I suppose its best they never find out.
There was no beauty in his death; this is what is most sad to me. There was no one for him, and he had been lying there for almost two hours. He had no glory nor humility; just pity. Was there a God for which he called out in his final moments? or was he silenced by the thud when he fell? Only God himself knows.
This made me think about my own mortality, which is something I accept yet rarely acknowledge. I full heartedly understand that I will die, and like him will transcend the transient material plain of existence and hopefully join God in the hereafter, but in spite of the futility and meaningless of it all, I refuse to go as he did; and while it is unlikely that i’ll have a choice, I’ll hope that I get the chance to choose when the time comes. If I am to die, I wish to die an eloquent death; like a duck being shot out of the air and gracefully tumbling to the cold water below only to be engulfed and cease to be apart of the material world.
May God bless him in the hereafter, for he was not blessed on earth.