The lessons of death

Greg and I have spent the morning watching a female deer take refuge, be killed, and be taken away from our backyard. It was the second day she was here, actually. She came yesterday. She was so still – she didn’t move even when Greg made noise and tried to startle her. That was obviously very strange, and we felt something in the air, but she ultimately seemed to go away and we shook it off and went on about our lives.

This morning, she came back. This morning, I knew what was in the air – it was death. She settled in that same place, underneath the crape myrtle tree in our backyard. It was as if she sought hospice care with us. I hope, to God, that we did right by her.

I’ve learned some things.

1. Death isn’t pretty – yesterday, she seemed off-kilter, but this morning, she looked terrible. Her fur had come off in many places. Her skin was beginning to rot. There was saliva hanging from her mouth. Her breaths were sporadic and struggling.

2. It is our instinct to fight death – you should have seen her. As awful as she looked, she also seemed so very brave. I spent some time with her outside this morning while we waited for Animal Control to show up. She wouldn’t lie down – she just refused to do it. Even though she looked as if it took everything that was in her to remain standing, stand she did. Up to the very last moment. After the officer shot her, she ran out into the front of the houses before finally succumbing. Not surrendering – she wouldn’t go easily. She ran away as if she could outrun death. But ultimately, she lost. It was her time.

Bloody and broken we all come into this world, and bloody and broken we will all leave it. We cannot avoid it, although we will use up our very last breath trying to do so. I guess in the end, this short time we have on this planet between those two gory realities is all we really have. This short time is all we have to show God that we really are worth it, after all. This short time is all we have to prove that very same thing to ourselves.

What I witnessed this morning has made every silly, stupid, miniscule thing in my life seem completely worthless and, at the same time, this morning has made it crystal clear that those same things are the things that matter most.

That’s what I have learned today while watching a female deer die in our backyard.

Have a good Sunday.

This is an email that Anita sent to her family on Sunday, August 24, 2008 11:38 AM. I rememebr this so clearly. Two whole mornings were taken up dealing with the doe, animal control and the police. We tried to shield the kids from the harsh realities and Anita took them upstairs while I dealth with the police officer.

The same officer who shot the deer as the one who took photos, interviewed me and wrote the reports the day of Anita’s death. He remembered coming out for the deer. We spoke briefly of it.

Anita’s words were amazing at the time and even more so in retrospect. Please don’t waste any time.