Grandfather to grandson: Death led to new life

We Americans have a difficult time dealing with death. “I’m gonna live forever” is an attitude that so many people have. We do not even like to use the word “death.” We speak about a loved one “passing away,” “leaving us” or “is no long with us.”

In war, we refer to an enemy being “eliminated” or “wiped out,” but never killed. We describe abortion as “a termination of a pregnancy,” not the killing of a fetus.

As Christians we have to be comfortable speaking about death. After all, the central mystery of the Christian faith is the death and resurrection of Jesus. St. Paul uses strong language to talk about the powerlessness of death. “When this perishable body puts on imperishability, and this mortal body puts on immortality, then the saying that is written will be fulfilled: ‘Death has been swallowed up in victory. Where, O death, is your victory? Where, O death, is your sting?’” (1 Cor. 15:54-55)

The following story is a good way for adults to speak about death to young people.

A grandfather took his 10-year-old grandson fishing one day. They were enjoying the peaceful stream, the sunshine, the great outdoors and the quiet surroundings. After a while the young boy broke the silence and asked his grandfather, “Grandpa, are you afraid to die?”

The grandfather thought briefly and answered, “No, Matt, I’m not afraid of dying.”

Then the little boy said, “Well, I am.”

After a short period of silence the old man asked the boy, “Matt, were you afraid to be born?”

The boy answered immediately, “No!”

To which the grandfather responded, “Oh, yes you were, Matt! When you came out you were kicking your little feet and waiving your arms, clenching your fists and screaming from the top of your lungs. You were very scared and upset when you were born.”

The surprised youngster replied, “I was?”

The old man continued, “You certainly were, Matt. This was until your mother wrapped you in a warm blanket and held you tightly in her loving arms, nursed you at her breasts, kissed you on the forehead and comforted you with her lullabies.”

“You see, Matt, dying is just like being born. We don’t know how it is after we’re born, but soon, very soon, we find that it’s better than where we were before. Before you were born, you were all cramped-up inside your mommy’s tummy. It was all dark in there and you couldn’t hardly move, but you were okay because that was all you knew. You didn’t know that it would be so much better when you could leave that place and go into another place where you could do things for yourself and experience all kinds of things you could never experience inside your mother’s tummy.

“Well, that’s how it is when we die. Jesus says it’s just like sleeping, a sleep from which he awakens us and brings us into a more fantastic place than we had here in this world. You see, Matt,” the old man concluded, “dying is just like falling into the arms of love. It’s being born into that life that God made for us in the first place. It’s like finally going home.

In the Bible, St. Paul tells us, ‘No eye has seen, nor ear heard, nor the human heart conceived, what God has prepared for those who love him’ (1 Cor. 2:9) It’s the whole reason we were born. Someday we will go to our real home and experience this terrific joy and happiness.”

The little boy looked up at this favorite grandpa, smiled and leaned on the old man. His grandpa put his arm around the little boy and gave him a gentle squeeze.