Shelf Life: the length of time for which an item remains usable, fit for consumption, or saleable.
On Books: Prior to the internet, books were my go-to source for wisdom, knowledge, inspiration, validation, instruction, entertainment and life story. With no television to watch during childhood, due to my father's firm belief in the value of reading, and limited cultural exposure due to the faith based private education I received, books along with the outdated magazines my father brought home from his waiting room were my door to more; and I read whatever I could lay my hands on. Hundreds of thousands of books later, with a world of information now readily available at my fingertips, I continue to value and enjoy the non-electronic paper presence of books. I order them, read them, refer to them, open them for points to ponder and rest them on the shelves or stacks in every room of my home.
On Prompts: The first answer I'd provide, if asked the question posed by Yahweh to the Moses in front of the Burning Bush about what he held in his hand, would be "Books"; they're what I hold in my hand. Since their relevance or shelf life, however, can be difficult to determine, I've decided to center my postings here around the excerpts, prompts and insights I've received through books as a matter of levity and gravity, and let them join the chips and grit that fall where they may, to zing and bounce around with the best and worst of the internet.
On Links: In mid July, I followed a link at Instapundit to the book: Visions, Trips, and Crowded Rooms: Who and What You See Before You Die by David Kessler, ordered a copy and read it. What initially caught my eye was Glenn's introductory pronouncement of "HMM" and his one line addition after the link of "This happened with my dad at the end"; as that is also what unexpectedly happened with my otherwise skeptical mom at the end, with a roomful of living family members as witnesses. The lengthier "hmmmmm" that came up for me has lessened some since reading of similar accounts from others, collected by an author who focuses on the hope these experiences provide for the dying, without tending to any particular religious beliefs about death or the afterlife.
On Impact and Unseen Companions: As a result of Glenn's link, I've since talked about the book and shared stories from it with several others without Glenn or the author having any awareness of the impact their words have had on me and those whose lives touch mine. Such is the power of story and the means to convey it through voice, printed page and the internet.
"'The saying goes, "We come into this world alone, and we leave alone.' We've been brought up to believe that dying is a lonely, solitary event...
What if the long road that you thought you'll eventually have to walk alone has unseen companions? What if who and what you see before you die changes everything? " pg155
5 comments:
Mama, that's a very good "Hmmm" you've got there.
We really have no idea how we affect other people.
Whoa, that is some heavy stuff right there.
I used to read out-of-date Highlights For Children (Fun With a Porpoise) that my dad brought home from the waiting room. Goofus and Gallant (you know who I emulated), The Timbertoes - my lumberjack heroes, and of course, Hidden Pictures. One gets one's education where one can, I suppose.
"No one will write any more books once they reach Heaven, but there is an excellent library, containing all the books written up to date, including all the lost books and the ones that the authors burned when they came back from the last publisher."
--Evelyn Waugh
According to Wyatt Earp biographer Stuart Lake, Wyatt and Morgan had occasionally discussed the “visions of heaven” people saw as they died. Now, as he died, Morgan whispered to Wyatt, “I can’t see a damn thing.” Although much of Morgan’s life remains shrouded in mystery, he was reputedly Wyatt’s favorite brother. So it was a sad irony that 30-year-old Morgan died just past midnight on March 19—brother Wyatt’s 34th birthday.
Isn't this "sad irony" also a vision? Or at least one of the ways the world is always communicating with us. Good post, MamaM. Death and all the things we do - or neglect to do - to prepare for it usually gets my attention.
Books are the great escape. At least they have been for me. It doesn't really matter that nothing can save you permanently. For a few hours a book can.
Philip Roth, who died recently, said something very naked about his life as a writer. He admitted that he was as much in the dark as everyman. The act of writing could somehow, he didn't know how, lift the veil. Then, after writing, he returned to being just as stupid as the rest of us. I'm paraphrasing but that was the gist. P.S. He even wrote a book titled Everyman.
Dying's going to happen. It's the breakdown before dying that most people fear.
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