End of Life

The legend of Prometheus is — as most ancient legends are — somewhat confusing. We all know the basic story, that Prometheus stole fire from the gods and was punished for doing so, but one little detail that’s often forgotten is why he stole the fire: he did so to give it to mankind. As a god, Prometheus had given undue knowledge and power to mortals, and for that, he was chained to a mountain to be tormented for eternity.

Earl had been diagnosed with cancer. It was late—Stage 4—and as he joked, “There is no Stage 5.” The dark humor he showed masked the sadness he felt at his own passing, because there was still so much he wanted to do. It wasn’t the future that bothered him the most in our conversation, though — it was the past. He expressed a lifetime of regrets. He avoided interesting job opportunities because of the risk involved; he didn’t want to give up the security of what he already had. Trips he had always wanted to take never happened because of his commitment to his daily routine. He said that regrets about the past bothered him, even situations from high school, and he now wished he would have taken more chances.

The McPherson kids, all grown up with kids of their own, always described their dad as someone who would be there forever. He was, as Thomas (the oldest son) told me in a session, “an old-fashioned tough SOB” with warm love for his family and friends and the kind of flinty health that seemed like a permanent rebuke to sickness, even death. He was the kind of guy who, even in his late 70s, was always happily fixing things in and around his house (and those of his children). It’s why no one would have been surprised when he went out on the roof to fix an attic window that was letting in an uncomfortable draft. But something happened. He must have slipped and toppled off the roof; he died instantly. No one saw it, no one was there, and a man who seemed indestructible was suddenly gone.  

Elsa felt that she had never actually been alone before the day that Thomas was buried. They had been married for over 40 years, together even longer, and even through his sickness over the last five years, she felt that closeness, that bond with her husband. He had been dying for a long time, but then suddenly it was all at once, and leaving the church, she felt the unfamiliar and choking weight of loneliness. Their adult children tried to comfort her, but they were wrapped in the cloaks of their own sorrow, and she felt isolated. She felt true loss.