It was a good day to die, as Garrison Keillor said of that spring day in Minnesota, with the tomatoes just planted. His aunt was looking over her garden when her heart just decided to stop.
His monologue came to mind today, Ash Wednesday. “Remember that you are dust, and that to dust you shall return,” say the priests. It’s a good thing for me to remember, because like most Americans, I tend to ignore my mortality. But it struck me the other day that I probably have fewer than 10,000 of them left.
Indeed, as I’ve heard a few times recently, “Life is short. We don't have much time to gladden the hearts of those who walk this way with us. So, be swift to love and make haste to be kind.” (attributed to Henri-Frédéric Amiel)
I hope in this Lenten season that I’ll be diligent to do that.
At the end of his monologue, Keillor remarked that it was indeed a good day to die. And if a good day to die, how much more was it a good day to live?
No comments:
Post a Comment