Extra, Extra, Read About Life

    Heads or tails? Life and death are two sides of the same coin. Why does it seem like death is being celebrated in the media? All these images force me to watch depictions of my heart beating outside of my chest. Every day we are informed of the death toll increase. At the time these strokes grace my keys the Texas number of confirmed Covid cases is 432,000 and 6,991 deaths. Not as much emphasis is placed on the recoveries. We see countless pictures of hospitals and doctors with makeshift personal protective equipment but, few smiling faces of the 260,542 people who held on to life long enough to share the love of those they believe are worth fighting death to see again. 

    

     This barrage of death got me to thinking about how humans place value on life. How does one measure life? What is a life worth? Covid is not the introduction of death but, it forces everyone to have a conversation with themselves about the impact of death. All the death in the media is not limited to the pandemic. There is talk of politics and civil unrest with their own sets of deaths to appraise. Like gremlins those two subgroups triggered reflection and/ or conviction for the acknowledgement of transgender deaths, deaths by abortion, deaths in the line of duty. The price one is willing to pay for something sheds light into that entity's value. Police misconduct leading to death has cost cities millions of dollars. An average abortion costs $700. The average burial is $1200. On average it costs $284,570 to raise a child to 18. Using money as a scale is an insult to the lives these fees represent and will never fully communicate their value. It always tickles me when I proclaim “I vote because someone gave their life for me to be able to have that right.” 

     One usual unsolicited response is “people are still dying today”. I laugh inside as I process whether to draw connections to the countless people of African American descent whose ancestors had conquered Their goal was to celebrate life but affirm some internal conflict. Life means so much to so many. Life, whether it is lost insisting on the full rights as citizens or, taken on foreign soil is precious. As of July 27, 2020 Operation Iraqi Freedom claimed 4,431 lives. I did not differentiate between soldier and civilian but, the data does. As I perused a few pages of the internet to gather these numbers I asked myself again. Why don’t we celebrate life? How do we celebrate life? I have read several posts that encourage us to love like there is no tomorrow. 

     I have had the uncommon privilege of spending the last day of life with my father. It was a normal day of bickering about lunch orders coupled with other parent child reversal dilemmas in that season of life span. I drove him home where he died in his sleep. I cherished his life because the legacy my Mother left of forgiveness taught me to honor the one thing he did right, in contrast to all the things he did wrong. This understanding did not dismiss my need to be made whole on the deaths his absence caused in my emotional life. My walk with Christ continues to resurrect that Eden soil in my soul. Family members are deduced to numbers on a chart. Memories are hieroglyphics in legacies left behind written in invisible ink for the soundbyte on a timeline.