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"\n\r\n\n\rNovember 1, 1999, was the day they rolled my dad out of his condo. It was the day my life was no longer the same. Since the day I was born, my world has always been a place that included Don Staires. Now that world no longer exists.\n\r\nNo matter who you are, death will affect you. Death may be commonplace in hospitals and war zones, but for most of us, death is a strange unwelcome visitor, who simply barges into our house, eats our food, plops his feet up on the furniture and decides to stay awhile.When \u201Cdeath out there\u201D becomes \u201Cdeath in here,\u201D the pain moves in for good. \n\r\nI got the phone call from my sister at 9:00 that Monday morning. I felt like I\u2019d been dropped into freezing water. I was paralyzed and unable to make a decision. He\u2019s gone. My Dad is gone, and he\u2019s never coming back.\n\r\nMy first real experience with \u201Cdeath in here\u201D came with my wife\u2019s mother Ann. We were called to the house when the family felt her time was near. I can still remember the oppressive feeling of intrusion I felt, as I stood quietly in the doorway. Bill, my father-in-law, was reclining at the head of the bed with his head near Ann\u2019s shoulder. He was whispering quietly in her ear, and I was halted by the intimacy\u2014stunned by the courage I was witnessing.\n\r\nAs I stood there, it occurred to me what he was doing. He was bravely coaching his wife in death. As I leaned in, I could hear his words, \u201CThere you go Ann \u2026 you can see Jesus \u2026 He\u2019s sitting on His throne. He\u2019s reaching out his hand. Now, just take His hand Annie. Take His hand.\u201D\n\r\nHere was a woman, a family, staring death in the face. Where was the fear? Where was the uncertainty or the helplessness so often present at death\u2019s bedside? I watched as the love of her life lay next to her, coaching her through the first baby steps into the other side.\n\r\nI got to spend the day with my dad on Thursday, just four days before his death. We went together, just the two of us, to Oklahoma City for a family function. It was the first time in a long time that I\u2019d spent that much time alone with the man. I was new to the role of primary care-giver.\n\r\nMy dad\u2019s body carried the war wounds from his battle with \u201CThe Big Three\u201D: heart disease, prostate cancer and diabetes. His chest bore the sternum scar from two open-heart surgeries. On his hip were the small tattoos the radiologist used to sight in the radiation, carpet-bombing his prostate. He\u2019d lost both of his legs below the knee to diabetes and was, for the most part, restricted to his electric cart. \n\r\nThat night, on the way home in the car, I wondered, Did he feel death just four days away? Did he feel \u201Cdeath in here\u201D closing in?\n\r\nWhen I arrived at the condo on the day my dad died, I was able to take some time to say good-bye. I quietly went into my parents\u2019 bedroom. I stood for a while just looking at him. Then I moved up by his head and put my hand on his face. In that moment, I remembered his frustrations of a life serving others. I remembered the exhaustion his life had become. As I looked at his face, now awash with peace, I smiled. My last words to him were, \u201CYou did it. You finished the race. You can finally rest.\u201D\n\r\nWhen the funeral home arrived, they took the gurney into the bedroom and closed the door. In a few moments, they wheeled my dad back through the living room and out the door. He had been dead several hours by then, but I think that\u2019s the first time his death became real to me. Now, as they wheeled him out, with the heavy green funeral home blanket draped over his head, I knew this was it. This is what death looks like. \n\r\nNo matter how old or how mature you are, \u201Cdeath in here\u201D is always strange and mysterious. I know in my heart, my dad had left this earth to be in heaven with a loving and merciful God for all eternity. But in my head, I can only see my dad lying in a casket they are going to bury in the ground. That\u2019s hard to grasp; it\u2019s hard to understand.\n\r\nThe assumption that death is cruel is vastly understated. I was braced for the emptiness and loneliness I knew would come, and I faced them head on. But death is its most cruel weeks later when you\u2019ve momentarily forgotten the fact that your dad is gone. I would see something that reminded me of my dad, and I would think to myself, I need to call Dad. In a flash, the pain would come, and I\u2019d remember there would be no more phone calls, no more conversation and no more advice from my dad. His voice has grown so quiet in my memory that I can barely remember what he sounded like.\n\r\nThe night my mother-in-law lay dying, I was finally able to pull away from the intense intimacy. I stepped out into the living room and sat on the couch, trying to process the scene I\u2019d just witnessed. I looked over and noticed my sister-in-law\u2019s newborn baby lying on a blanket on the floor.\n\r\nIn the very next room, a family was wrestling with death, yet here in front of me was a brand new life\u2014a life full of hope, full of promise. The enormity of the moment began to wash over me. I was witnessing the great circle of life.\n\r\nThe death of those close to me has spurred me on to live my life every single day. I do my best to rise above the mediocrity and apathy that creeps around me all day. I also try to achieve the bigger things and make the bigger impact. Death will come soon enough, but today I have life, and that is far more important than death will ever be. \n\r\n[Michael Staires lives in Tulsa, Okla., with his wife Lainey and seven (yes seven!) children. He isa writer and storyteller. He isalso an account executive with BMC Advertising.] \n\r\n\n\r\nREAD MORE LIFE | POST COMMENTS BELOW\n"^^<http://www.w3.org/2001/XMLSchema#string>
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