Tonight I was watching a Barbara Walters show where she was talking about her and others’ experiences with open heart surgery. It drew me in because I am rather more interested in the fragility of life nowadays, as one might imagine. Walters, usually recognized for her considerable skill as an interviewer, spoke openly of her personal fear when faced with the prospect of such an invasive surgery, even of the slim but very real possibility of dying while undergoing it, and her co-stars on her daily television show, The View, weighed in. I was appalled to hear one of them, Whoopie Goldberg, say with incredulity, “This wasn’t some namby-pamby person. This was Barbara Walters! Of course she was going to be alright.”
I couldn’t help but think, “Really, Ms. Goldberg? Did you really just say that? Did you seriously mean to imply that my mom wasn’t famous enough, or smart enough, or successful enough, or WHATEVER enough to be protected from the final enemy?” I’m not usually all that sensitive, and especially not at the comments of celebrities. I tend to write them off as “too big for their britches,” to use a term that will certainly expose my Southern roots, but the comment caught me so off-guard; I didn’t expect to hear anything quite so asinine. Could anyone really think that Barbara Walters’ fame, intelligence, success or anything else will protect her from death? Death comes to all, whether of high or low estate, doesn’t it? Job 30:23 assures us that death is “the place appointed for all the living.”[i] That wisest of all men, Solomon, reminds us, “…death is the destiny of everyone; the living should take this to heart.”[ii]
On the same show, Walters interviewed former President Clinton, Robin Williams and David Letterman about their similar experiences. She asked Williams and Letterman if they had been changed as a result of facing such a serious and potentially fatal surgery. Williams spoke reverently of gratitude, and Letterman of living his life differently, of being a better person. Walters asked former President Clinton what he would tell people who were facing heart disease and possible surgery. He responded, “Look at us. We got a second chance.” Walters affirmed all their feelings as similar to her own. These four survivors, perhaps because of having to face their own fragility, recognize the fragility of us all. They have “taken to heart” the destiny of everyone. It makes it a little easier to forgive those who, in trying to be witty, reveal that they have not done so. May God help them, and may He help us all.
A very close friend of mine recently died, very unexpectedly. She was an incredibly strong woman who had fought cancer and won. She kayaked, biked, hiked, had a doctorate and a successful career. I could not, would not have believed that a woman as strong as her would fall so suddenly. To my way of thinking, she should have lived to a ripe old age. If I were discussing her, I would have been Whoopi-like just as you would have been Whoopi-like in discussing your mom. It's too easy to believe that strong people will live long lives. No one can defeat death but it seems like in some grand cosmic arm wrestle some people are strong enough to be able to keep death at a stalemate for a very long time. We know that's not true but it doesn't fit with how we live so it doesn't seem right. Some people just don't seem fragile, even if life is.
ReplyDeleteLife is, indeed, fragile. We are dust, easily broken and bruised, and too soon gone from those we love.
ReplyDeleteI'm so sorry about your friend, Jo. There are no words anymore for those who lose people they love. Just that I'm so sorry. I hope you and her family are okay.