Hello on the traditional end of summer,
Queue up your favorite Eagles tune or claim to be a “parrothead” even if all you know is “cheeseburger in paradise” or “Margaritaville,” but the last couple months have rocked (pun intended) my musical world. While other members of the Eagles had already passed, the weekend news, informing us that Jimmy Buffet had succumbed to a type of skin cancer was quite a shock. The number of Facebook posts from every corner of the country (and not-surprisingly into the Caribbean) continue to multiply. What seems to be most common are two things: in spite of being worth a billion dollars, he seemed to be genuinely kind and generous, and much like the immortality of parents or grandparents for their children or grandchildren, James William Buffet seemed to establish a sort of immortalized cult following for anyone who enjoyed his music, his well-known brands (be it Margaritaville – restaurants or lodging, and Landshark beer – and reviving the Corona brand also), or his themes of “fins up” or the Coral Reefer, which I read he wanted to establish as a particular strain of weed. Quite the empire for a Mississippi boy, who after being rejected by multiple recording labels founded his own. And yet, while the recognition, the economic empire, and even the seemingly unparalleled generosity have created quite a legacy, and tributes either on Facebook or other bands covering his music will continue, mortality has happened. Mortality is something we admit readily, but avoid even more quickly.
And yet, those jolting moments come. Sometimes too soon; sometimes when we are snapped into reality by a changing circumstance; sometimes, like this weekend, when reminded that even those who seem larger-than-life aren’t. For me, there’s been both the human-family reality of those loved who have passed before I was ready. On the other hand, as a parish pastor, I remember occasions when whether expected or not, helping others face the inevitable morality of a loved one was never easy, even when death was compassionate, ending the suffering that preceded that passing. Even now, there is one death I know occurred, but I was not there to either witness it, nor did I have any interaction beyond an Emergency Room visit. It occurred the summer I completed my Clinical Pastoral Education (CPE) at St. Luke’s Medical Center in my hometown. I was assigned to Pediatrics, Pediatrics Oncology, and Pediatrics ICU. Yet, this did not occur in any of those spaces, but rather in a room in the Emergency area of the center.
This was in the day of beepers, and I was beeped to call my supervisor, who informed me I needed to go to the ER section of the complex to speak with a 23 year old mother whose 2 year-old had received a quite dire medical diagnosis and even more tragic prognosis. I was to go meet her and her son, and offer pastoral care as one of the summer hospital chaplains. At the time I had finished one year of seminary, believed I had a solid faith foundation, and yet, I needed to explain how God might work when a toddler had little chance of living and a mother was facing the imminent death of her first child. I was just a student, but I could say none of that. The shirt I wore telegraphed that somehow I understood God, that I could interpret scripture as well as the why senseless things occurred. To put it accurately, I could not do any of that, and the shirt did little more than corner me into an untenable situation. Perhaps it was that I was in my late 20s; perhaps it was I was more of a realist than I knew; perhaps it was the loss of a brother and my grandmother, and hero, in my early 20s, providing some foundation that supported me beyond scripture. And just maybe it was the prayer of desperation prayed as I walked toward that room that guided me through that 15 minute visit.
The mother greeted me upon my arrival, shaking my hand firmly, and offering the following greeting, “I don’t believe God causes bad things to happen . . .” What an incredible gift from her lips. She did not blame the God she trusted, and it took all the well-meaning, misguided, bullshit platitudes of God choosing to take her child. She made my life exponentially easier before she even knew. And yet the second half of her statement was as much of a Psalmist lament and cry as anything I had studied thus far in my classes. She continued, “But tell me what good comes from this?” I am not sure I thought this at the time, but as I write this now, the word that comes to mind is DAMN!! What to do with that? I looked at her son, who was asleep. He seemed peaceful, and yes, angelic.
I remember swallowing hard, but hopefully not detectably, and I began slowly, “ I not sure what might be positive because it is unfair; it is unreasonable; and it is tragic.” And then I continued, “Two possible things that might be positives are first, we take time for granted and you will not. You will treasure each moment with your son. Second, as a mother, who loves unconditionally, you might find strength you never knew you were capable of. Beyond that, I cannot think of anything. Again, I think it is unfair and unfathomable.” I paused, looking to see her response. Her eyes welled up and tears began to stream down her tanned, but saddened face. I continued a bit further, mostly because of her initial statement. I offered, “I believe in a compassionate and caring God. I believe God hurts as we hurt, and cries as we cry.” I paused, adding, “At least, I sure hope so.” I remember praying for strength, a sense of calmness, and for a promise of as much time as medically possible. I shook her hand, holding it in my own, and I left the room. I had survived that gauntlet, but I felt saddened and inadequate. And yet, I lifted my eyes and whispered thank you. Facing mortality with a two year-old is a tall order for anyone, regardless their piety. That summer was a crash course in living and yes, dying. Weekly, I crossed paths with patients and family members who face their mortality, at times with some advanced inkling, but at other times with a brutality and unexpectedness that would (and did) bring people to their knees. There are no classes; there are no recipe cards; and there are no preparatory vitamins that offer some kind of inoculation from the moment life ends and we face our mortality or that of a loved one.
While the loss of well-known people receive incredible press, and there is the sort of obligatory medical explanation, as well as some additionally information about their particular malady, there are losses as of loved ones daily that go mostly unnoticed, but are as profoundly affecting as when the loss of someone famous occurs. Twenty-six years ago, the world stopped at the tragic loss of the Princess of Wales, Diana Spencer. Her passing caused another musical duo (Elton John and Bernie Taupin) to revise his classic piece “Candle in the Wind.” And yet a quarter century later, our lives continue, and people both enter and exit our lives. While I have noted the occurrence of my 50th high school reunion, I am not sure I noted almost 150 people have passed. Each of them had a family, people who loved them, others they affected. Life is an incredible gift given, and yet fragile and fleeting. I realize clearly my days are numbered, and the promise of tomorrow is no promise at all. .
While I too am saddened that my bucket list line that was “see a Jimmy Buffet Concert” will go infilled, I am forever grateful that my Dana classmate, Michael Keenan, introduced me to the incredibly original and unapologetic Jimmy Buffet. While the beer I will raise is not a Landshark, I will raise a Moosehead, the other thing Mr. Keenan introduced me to. To that Raiders floor on Four North Holling Hall the fall of 1979. The changes in attitudes and latitudes have been many since then, but on this Labor Day, fins up and to another day in this mortal world.
Thank you for reading.
Dr. Martin
thewritingprofessor55 
Hi Dr. Martin
I really enjoyed this post, especially since recently I have been thinking about having to deal with death and grief almost daily if I am to become a nurse in the future. I never grew up religious, but I do believe that the belief is embedded in me, I’m just too young and the thought is just too big for me to really think about it yet. Thankfully, I have not had to deal with much death in my life yet (I hope I don’t have to anytime soon). I am working hard to become a nurse, but sometimes I wonder if I will be prepared to experience and see the type of pain that patients/their families go through. Because I have no real religion and no experience in losing a loved one, will I be able to react correctly? Will being exposed over and over again to grief in the hospital one day break me down? I’m worried that I won’t be able to do it mentally, but I am still willing to try. One thing that continues to push me through these doubtful thoughts is the fact that I will be there for them when they’re facing their worst fears. My job as a nurse will be to be engaged with the family and patient, which I think is a beautiful thing. Even though watching a family hurt may affect my mental health, I would love to be the person there for them just as support through such a hard time.
Dr. Martin,
I enjoyed reading your recent post on mortality. You are a unique person with a well diversified background. The more I read your posts, the more I can visualize you as a person. This is important as the class I have with you is an online class. It seems since Covid, we are either online with classes and Zooming to meet with other professors, students, and advisors. Your writings allow me to go to a deeper understanding of you.
My largest fear in life is mortality. Whether it be my own mortality or a close family member such as my mom or dad. I cannot imagine seeing a loved one one minute and then potentially learning of their death later that day. I try not to let it consume me. My minister gave a wonderful sermon one Sunday that I still hear his words that help me deal with not allowing this fear to consume my every day life. He said when we fear or feel lost, lean into God. Trust in him and all will be ok. As I heard him say the words “lean into God”, I pictured myself on my front porch swing and God sitting beside me. My head was learning on his shoulder as we swung slowly on the swing. It was a comforting picture. To this day, when I am stressed or afraid, I picture myself on the swing leaning into God. It helps to remind me he is there for me in good and bad times and I must put my trust into him.
Dr. Martin,
I really enjoyed this blog, and how it touched on immortality. That is a subject that is very broad and some thing that many people think about. I like how you said the artist created his own source of immortality cult. This shows how people can love someone so much that the thought of them dying is unthinkable. I agree. It is so hard to think about death and think about the love ones dying. It’s some thing that I tend not to think about and something I get really scared about when mg love ones get sick. I also believe that God can help us in many ways. I like how you said that can help us through our grieving by praying for strength and calmness. That is such an important subject that I believe strongly. I loved how this post touched on mortality, and how to cope through it. It made me question immortality and how I think about others dying. The thought that somebody can never die is it that many people have and it’s a thought that we have to get over. It’s a hard thought but it’s something we can cope with.
Dr. Martin,
As a student of yours, it is very interesting to see work of your own out in the world, and in such a powerful way. This post particularly grabbed my interest because I remember you mentioning the title in class. As I read, I got to truly understand the things you teach us in class and why writing style is important. That being said, what I really want to talk about is the topic at hand. I am someone who has experienced a good amount of loss in their life. My grandfather (my mother’s father) passed away in January of 2018. Following the traditional Indian ceremony for death, as was his belief, I, the oldest descended male blood relative of the deceased, had to perform duties over his corpse when I was just 12 years old. My cousin also passed away in August of 2022 in a car accident. He was 22. That was when it really sunk in for me that death is something we have to be prepared to accept, even when it crashed into you like a wave on a beach during a hurricane. I didn’t really understand it at the time of my grandfather’s passing, but looking back, I understand what you mean about how death happens suddenly, more suddenly than we can comprehend, in my opinion. All that being said, I truly do connect to this post, and I hope to learn more from you as the semester continues.
Dr Martin,
I was really touched by reading this blog post. Hearing your hardships about morality helped me to understand more about you besides you being just my professor. I loved reading this post as it gave me knowledge about your compassion in faith as well as the mortality difficulties you’ve faced throughout your life. Although I haven’t had someone very close to me pass away at this point in time, it is something that very much scares me. This fear comes from the fact that I have not yet had to experience the loss of a loved one. I am very grateful I’ve been able to make it to my twenty years without having to experience this grief, but know that it will be coming one day hopefully very far in my future. I feel it is much harder to prepare yourself for loss when you haven’t experienced it yet, it still seems very scary.
One of my biggest fears is mortality. Thinking about it causes so many questions to run through my head. The thought of the unknown, where will I go, what will happen to me, will I live in darkness for eternity is something no one knows until it is your time for mortality. I am a firm believer in God and grew up going to church, making all my sacraments. I believe God has a plan for every person on this Earth, and he had a plan for that two-year-old boy and mother going through the unbearable. As you said this is how life works, not everyone will live forever and mortality shouldn’t be scary in God’s eyes, yet very much seems like it from an outside perspective.
Dr. Martin,
Mortality might be one of the most confusing and hardest concepts to grasp in life. When you think about it in an existential point of view, it makes a lot of sense. Once you realize how much it makes sense it makes you want to live life in a different way. You are going to live every day like it could be your last. No matter how well you can understand mortality it still is scary and not fair. I cannot imagine the day one of my favorite singers die. To think about loved ones is even worse.
Since I am getting older the idea of mortality is something that I think about a lot. The idea that one day the people I love are not going to be apart of this world is disturbing. I really enjoyed reading your perspective, even though it is sad, it is comforting to know that we are not alone. Everyone feels this way and this sadly is just apart of life. Sometimes I struggle to have faith but I your perspective was very eye opening.
Dr. Martin,
Mortality might be one of the most confusing and hardest concepts to grasp in life. When you think about it in an existential point of view, it makes a lot of sense. Once you realize how much it makes sense it makes you want to live life in a different way. You are going to live every day like it could be your last. No matter how well you can understand mortality it still is scary and not fair. I cannot imagine the day one of my favorite singers die. To think about loved ones is even worse.
Since I am getting older the idea of mortality is something that I think about a lot. The idea that one day the people I love are not going to be apart of this world is disturbing. I really enjoyed reading your perspective, even though it is sad, it is comforting to know that we are not alone. Everyone feels this way and this sadly is just apart of life. Sometimes I struggle to have faith but I your perspective was very eye opening.
Dr. Martin
This article has touched a very specific part of my life. Not only have I lost love ones, but I was there when bad things have happened. Making a long story short, my cousin had her first baby. The first of our parents kids to have a child, it was truly something special. She was the first of our new generation of family, loved throughout. Everything was amazing and things were perfect, she was healthy having fun made it to her 1st birthday! Not soon after that she was diagnosed was leukemia. A blessing of our family turned into a curse. When she was being treated my family would always go to show our support and love to our cousin, her husband, my aunt and uncle. Our whole family was there when the pastor came in to say some kind words and pray. Which I thought to myself and even told my brother, “That job must be the toughest in the world. Praying for someone’s love one that they will get better when times are tough.” It must take a load of courage, and ability to try and make things better to do something like that. With all that being said she eventually lost her battle with leukemia. She is still with us in our hearts and is always thought about.
Which brings me to my next topic about the lady who lost her child talking about God. Again I talk about Jaden Leiby and his struggle because one of the things he always says is, “God gives his toughest battles to his strongest soldiers.” Which I firmly believe in that. Not everyone goes through the pain others do. However, I believe there is a reason behind everything. There may be a loss of something but there is always something to gain, or even to overcome. The tragic event of Jaden happened but now his story, his legacy, his heart touches more than just the people around him. People all around our county, and even state learned a valuable lesson that is still talked about to this day. Never take anything in life for granted.
Great Article
Dylan,
Thank you for what you have shared here. There is so much we take for granted. Life is often on a sort of auto-pilot, believing tomorrow is just a given. One of the things I learned when I lost a brother at 26 is life is not about fairness, it is about living. Whatever that means, we are offered 24 hour blocks to use, to manage.
Thank you for what you have shared here. I wish you comfort and peace.
Dr. Martin
Dr. Martin,
Your post about mortality was very touching and very connecting on certain levels. For many individuals, mortality seems like such a terrifying thing. We fear dying as we get older. The thought of missing out on life, family, and overall experiences plagues us when we consider our own mortality. Some young adults think themselves invincible or immortal, pushing out any thoughts of death. Yet others contemplate their mortality, basing life choices on what they want to do with their time.
I myself think of my mortality here and there. I know that everything comes to an end at some point and we must make the most of the time we have. This became very apparent to me this past year. All my life I have been very aware of how health issues affect people since my mother has had significant health issues all of my life. Everything came crashing down a bit last year when she got long covid and her doctors found heart issues along with what appeared to be a mass in her brain. The thought of losing my mother made me start to think of my own mortality. “How would I go through life without her?” and “How can I help her get through this?” were a handful of the many thoughts that floated around my head. Eventually, my thoughts turned to my own mortality. “How will things end for me?” Through helping my mother, and questioning my own mortality at that time I came to a certain conclusion. All we can do is try to be the best version of ourselves every day and do the most with whatever time we have left on this earth.
Confronting mortality is never an easy task. It takes strength and extreme thoughtfulness. Some muster up the strength from praying and god, others do it through contemplation and finding the strength within themselves. It’s never an easy topic, for anyone at any age. I think you touched on some notes that can really resonate with a lot of people, as it did with myself. Being able to connect with people on such a raw and tough topic shows what a great and thoughtful piece this is.
Thank you,
Thea Eppley
Dr. Martin,
This post was very moving and has made me stop and contemplate events that have happened in my life while reading. Your quote, ” the promise of tomorrow is no promise at all”, really made me stop and ponder. While nobody wants to believe it’s true, it is. Nobody is promised another day on this earth. There are many outside factors on whether you will live to see another day. When I was a little boy my grandmother was watching me and decided we were going to go to the store. While on the highway coming back, another person merged into our lane, hitting our car and causing an accident. While strapped into my car seat, I came away with only a broken arm but my grandmother was not so lucky. I think back to this every once in a while. What if we left just five minutes later? There are so many factors that could have changed the outcome, but only a psychic can be safe from outside factors.
My biggest fear is death. I think the thing that makes me the most scared about it is how unknown it is. Will I end up in heaven? Is reincarnation real? How will I be remembered? I live my life as every day is my last, and I think it’s the best way to live. I never want to end up in a situation where I can not cross something off my bucket list because I said, “I’ll go to his concert the next time he comes to town.” Ultimately, I believe God has a plan for everyone, and when my day comes, I want to be proud of the life I lead.
Thank you,
Jakob Rhodes
Jakob,
There are some many significant things you have alluded to in this post. You note a profoundly difficult experience, particularly for a young person. That is life altering. You have noted a particular mindset for life-practice that very few your age are thoughtful enough to imagine. Finally, you do note a particular faith stance, and as a former Lutheran pastor, I have some significant affinity for.
I do believe life is a git. I heard just this morning the following quote in response to the idea “we only live once.” They responded. This is not true, “we only die once, we live every day.” It reoriented my entire day. I have a simple life-philosophy. If I make other people’s lives more meaningful, I make my own life more meaningful.
Thank you for your thoughts.
Dr. Martin
Hello Dr. Martin
I’ve never been one to believe in the certainty of most things in life, but death is possibly the biggest exception to that belief. Death has a fascinating way of making its presence known to those who are living. Children aren’t exactly born with the concept of death, and thus has to be taught by their parents and guardians, so the age they learn about it, and the method they are taught about it varies much differently. But simply learning about what death is, is only part of truly understanding death in the perspective of life. Between different people, they experience death of loved ones very early in their lives and have the realization that it will someday happen to them, which often deeply scares them. Others deny its presence until a point in their lives where they know it will soon come and shocks them to the core. Some may always have death lurking around the corner due to perhaps a terminal illness or a dangerous living environment, or experience death every day as part of their profession, desensitizing them to the fear.
While everyone deals with death and morality in their own way, death is still an experience shared be everyone. It could arguably be either the most impactful experience of your life, or the worst experience depending on divine beliefs and circumstances of death. However these causes may be, for everyone it is their last experience, an ultimate conclusion to the story you have spent years building in the world and with others. Realizing that a story could end before you are ready to end it leaves a pit in your stomach and makes you reflect on everything that your life is, was, and could have been. The fragility of it all and realizing that death is one of the most important factors in how you choose to live your life gives those who choose to think a whole new appreciation for it.
I have my own perspective obviously, and since everyone deals with the idea of death and morality differently than I do, it can be difficult to express these feelings to others without scaring them or them shutting themselves off because they aren’t ready to handle the realization of morality with themselves. I personally classify death as something I should not worry about because it’s out of my control and it will come for me eventually. That being said, I try a treat every day as a gift and live as if it’s the last day I will be on this earth. I am still young however and let the concept of death slip my mind as it may seem so far off in the distance, but as my three emergency surgeries and two major brushes with death have reminded me, death is a lot closer than any of us think. Do not fear it but embrace it as one of the biggest and most important parts of your life.
Hello Dr. Martin,
It was interesting to read the first part of this post about Jimmy Buffett, since I do not have anyone in my life who was truly invested in his work or life. I only remember learning one day of the almost comically large brand he developed over the decades, and dismissed him as a greedy man cruising off of the success of some catchy music. So it is enlightening to see a less cynical view of a Mississippi boy with humble beginnings merely making his dreams a reality.
One of my favorite ideas I have come across in fiction (which is somewhat underutilized) is the “curse of immortality”, in which a character with eternal life eventually realizes that life effectively loses all of its meaning when you do not have any kind of “time limit”, and especially when all that you love constantly expires all around you. I think it highlights that memory, our own crude substitute for immortality, is in some ways a more beautiful option. Jimmy Buffett’s empire means that his love for leisure and relaxation is how he will be immortalized for all time, and I believe that is admirable.
The story about that poor child put a knot in my stomach. I could never imagine the stress of being looked to for guidance in the face of the unthinkable, because as I have mentioned in a comment for a different blog post, my frequent reaction to being confronted with God or the nature of the Universe is to simply not worry about it. It is easy to have a “what will be, will be” attitude when you are not actively in the midst of a horrible tragedy, but that philosophy can only take a human being with empathy so far. There are pains so great that all our strength to cope crumbles under the weight of the moment. The only thing to do, even if we do not recognize it in the moment, is to continue living in whatever way we can until the wounds become scars. You claim to have left the room feeling “inadequate”, but I believe the company and assurance of anyone at all was all the woman could have asked for when faced with such an impossible question.
Thank you for this insight,
Nick Roditski