by David Hamilton


Think about the day you went to the DMV to get your drivers' license.

Do you remember that day?

Of course you do; the event was inevitable.

Whether you wanted to or not, from the first day you knew the opportunity existed, you knew you would face that moment.

Leading up to that day, did you watch your Mother, Father, big Sister or Brother drive?

Sure you did.

Just before you went to take your test, you watched your friends drive.  You took driver's ed and during the practical portion of the course—when you drove with your instructor and classmates—you were aware of how your instructor and classmates observed your reaction to preparation for this right of passage.

 Let's think about this.

From the day

we are about 12

we begin


prepare to be a driver.

To get our license!

So, for four years, we are preparing. 

 Think about this.

 From the day we are born, we are destined to die.

We may not be capable of even trying to appreciate the fact of mortality until we are somewhat older—let's say 18 years old.  But, from the age of 18 until we die—and die we will; we know that—we have the opportunity to spend some time thinking about death and dying.

We don't take advantage of that opportunity.

In fact, the idea horrifies us; we run from it.

 How much time did you spend thinking about the Sunday morning when at the age of 18 your 44 year old father died from what is euphemistically called a “heart attack”?  By that time you had been driving for 2 years and had thought about and engaged in driving for 6 years.  Not at all, right?

 Take another example.  If we choose to skydive, we get trained.  Trained for the moment we will step from the airplane and put our lives in the care of a parachute.  One of the things that draws parachuters to that sport is the thrill; the proximity to death.  The participants prepare for that experience.  My friends who jump from airplanes tell me there are times the fear is palpable; almost paralyzing, even with preparation; even with training.  Some parachuters pack their own equipment, most importantly the parachute.  As the jumper moves toward the door, he or she reflects on his or her preparations.

As we shuffle toward to door of the airplane we all occupy in life and approach the jump off point of death, how many of us can say we spent any time thinking about our preparation for the moment?  Hello?  Goodbye.

My friend, Wayne told me not long ago that I was a special person in his life and he appreciated that fact.  Then he said, “enough said”.

 I am prepared.