The Long Hard Talk

I recently saw a Facebook post from a young friend whose uncle was dying.  Unlike most of us who know that we are going to die but, thankfully don't know when, my friend's uncle knows (and everyone around him knows) that death is quite imminent.  My friend has disclosed that he has had long meaningful talks with his uncle.  He will cherish these moments and will carry away a memory of his uncle that will endure forever.

My first reaction to his post was "why do we wait so long to have these talks"?  Whether a relative or a friend we allow our lives to go on thinking that both we and those who surround us will live forever.  My friend avows that these talks are difficult--not so much because of the content, I suspect, but because both who are engaged in the talk know the imminent finality that will engulf these talks.  There is an old Talmudic saying that we should comport ourselves as if we were going to die tomorrow.  When challenged that we don't know when we are going to die, the Rabbi said "exactly right".  So many things unsaid, so many deeds undone, so many hurts unrepressed, so many thanks not given--or received.  When we  are confronted with the inevitable we make hasten to "make things right".  We say our "goodbyes" without having said our "hellos".

I make this post from the perspective of being well into my 70th decade of life.  The mere effluxion of time gives me a rather limited future.  My perspective on life when I was 30 was that I was going to live forever.  At my present age I know that my future is closer to the ultimate than the past.  If I have learned anything during these past 70+ years is that words are dangerous.  I own a book of Jewish curses.  While the content is not very exciting the title has been with me for years:  Words Like Arrows.  I can remember a slight that was delivered to me when I was about 6 years old.  I say this because I am not that fragile but because words have a lasting effect on both the deliverer and and the person to whom they are delivered.  If left unattended harsh words grow like thorns that keep stabbing the psyche.  If dealt with, the hurt may linger but the redress blunts the hurt.  I have seen many families (not mine, thank goodness) where words have cleaved them asunder and the members have died without rapprochement.  While the deceased may no longer feel the hurt I have seen many family survivors who regretted not putting things right.  When seen in the perspective of the ultimate a family quarrel seems quite insignificant.

The lesson that I learned is to have the long hard talk when you can.  Many of us don't really know our parents.  Many of us don't really know our relatives.  Many of us don't really know our friends.  We go through the motions and exchange banalities.  These long hard talks should not await someone's demise where the talks are accompanied by sadness but should be undertaken as a positive and cathartic exercise.

Bernie.