Slipping the Surley Bonds of Earth

Yesterday, Joanie and I went to the funeral of her Uncle Ray. A 79 yr. Old barber from Hamilton, Ohio, Uncle Ray had a massive heart attack and died last Saturday - just about the time Joel was graduating from college. Dad and Tina, up for the graduation exercises, headed over to Ohio to be with the family. Yesterday, Dad conducted the funeral of his brother. It was the second funeral he has officiated at in the past year. The other funeral was for his older brother, Clyde, just about a year ago.
My father-in-law is the finest pastor I have ever known. He has never considered himself a great preacher. However, you wouldn't have known it yesterday. Dad did the finest job I have ever heard at a funeral. His sermon was powerful, comforting, direct, and heart-tugging. For me, the most powerful moment was when he talked about the last time his surviving brothers were all together. It had taken place just a few days before Uncle Clyde had passed away. Clyde had made the decision not to go on dialysis. Too may physical problems had plagued him over recent years and dialysis would neither prolong his life for long nor give him a better quality of life. Dad called his brothers and three of them were able to come down to Florida to visit Clyde. They all came at the same time and drove over to Leesburg to spend an afternoon with their brother.
As they arrived at his home, Clyde's wife left the home and said, "This is your day together." So, one afternoon, the Williams Boys spent the day reminiscing about the past, remembering their lives, and celebrating more than 7 decades of life together as brothers. These quiet, gentle men spoke of things that only brothers speak of together. They laughed and shared as they rarely do. Then came this incredible moment when Dad, taking the reigns of the conversation, spoke to Clyde of his decision. "Are you at peace with the decision?" "Do you understand what it means to refuse the treatment?" Clyde both knew the outcome of his decision and was at peace with the ending of his life. He was ready. Then, in an extraordinary moment of family love, the Williams Boys said a private goodbye to one of their own. They spoke to Clyde individually. They expressed their love and appreciation for "one of their own". They spoke together for one, final moment. Then, with Dad leading, they prayed for Clyde and for each other. And then the boys departed, never to be together again this side of heaven.
I don't know how or when I will die. It may be some long, drawn out illness like Clyde's or some sudden, immediate heart attack like Ray's. But, if I had control over how my end would come, I would love to have the opportunity to say goodbye to those I love. To spend an afternoon with my brothers.; to spend a day telling my boys how deeply I love them and how proud I am to have been their Dad; to hold the hand of my lovely, sweet wife and share all those memories we have spent a lifetime creating; then, to let go, and "slip the surley bonds of earth" while rushing with abandonment into the arms of Jesus. If I had my choice, I think that's how I would do it. But even if it happens another way, I hope that all those whom I love will know this one great truth, their love has made the journey of life precious.