Large Fierce Mammal

Last Thursday, in response to our recent Dark Sentiments piece titled Exit Music, we were honoured by a quite literally heartfelt comment from trusty LFM reader Julian:

“Only tonight have I seen this and the irony is rich and deep. I have suffered the early stages of another heart attack during the night; and a dear precious friend Sandy Ballard, a lifelong animal rescuer, a key part of our TEARS rescue group and the ‘mother’ for 14 rescued dogs, passed away from cancer and sepsis in the last hour. I am able to sit up for a few minutes and saw this. Please share a prayer and thought for Sandy. I believe I will survive my own event, but if not, then my love and blessings to all.”

I replied,

“Of all things for you to find in this critical moment. We Truly hope it brings you comfort, and rest in the belief that the finding was no accident. Love and blessings in return my Friend.”

I am most pleased to report that, at least as of today, our Esteemed Friend Julian had this to say … more or less, and except for the bit with the hand operated head bludgeon:

And just to be thorough, here’s a spirited ditty you can all sing along with, ignoring once again the homicide at the end because remember, Julian is …

It may come as some smidgen of surprise to you all that I am regularly consulted in matters of death and things mournful, as often as not by people who should really know better. A case in point was the event described in my recent Good Night Sweet Prince. This has in fact gotten out of hand to the point where one Gentleman of my acquaintance is so looking forward to my officiating at his wake, he has asked for a rehearsal run just so he can “be there” to fully appreciate it. There’s scotch and a bagpiper; how can one refuse?

I don’t take death, mine or anyone else’s, “lightly” as most know the meaning of that word. I simply find it every bit as interesting and inspirational as all else in Life, and every bit as deserving of both serious and humourous exploration. My work is festooned with examples, like My Angelique, The Price of Leadership, A Choir of Crows, The Fools of April, and The Strange Case of the Caller at the Library Window — both Part the First and Epilogue.

But I digress.

Returning to the Honourable Julian and the contents of his comment, it did not escape my notice that he offered his own love and blessings in the event of his demise, but made request for prayers solely for the dear departed Sandy. This meshes perfectly with my own ways that don’t include “prayer” as most understand and practice it. You see, I have invested mightily in learning to be resourceful so that, when the day comes that my need cannot be answered by the resources I hold within me, I can look deeper to learn if my behaviour as a Man, leading up to this critical moment, has made me worthy of anyone’s help, let alone that of a supreme being with better things to be concerned with. I believe that if the answer to that question ever turns out to be no, then I will have met the problem very close at hand indeed. As I once wrote,

My every act, my every thought,
My every given damn;
My death will come, unflinching met
Quite happy where I am.

So, my Friend Julian, I’ll offer no prayers for you. Besides, there is a school of thought that suggests,

“… heart surgery patients who knew people were praying for them ended up with a higher rate of post-operative complications, such as abnormal heart rhythms. Researchers suggested this was perhaps due to the anxiety of knowing others were praying for their recovery.” ~ Health warning: Praying for the sick makes them feel even worse

While we’re far from being “strangers”, I’d hate to have that on my conscience. Instead, let me offer this, preferably sung to you in person. Please accept it in the spirit intended, and know that as I wrote this today, the five LFM rescue Dogs lay sleeping around me. There’s a bit of them in it too, not unlike my morning coffee.