This is my first diary, so please forgive me for any failings it may have.
As we are pondering death, living wills, Terri, Easter, and our own lives, I am constantly reminded of a letter that Benjamin Franklin wrote to console someone who had lost a loved one.
It bears repeating here.
Philadelphia, 23rd February, 1756.
I condole with you. We have lost a most dear and valuable relation. But it is the will of God and nature that these mortals bodies be laid aside when the soul is to enter into real life. This is rather an embryo state, a preparation for living . A man is not completely born until he be dead. Why, then, should we grieve that a new child is born among the immortals, a new member added to their happy society?
We are spirits. That bodies should he lent us while they can afford us pleasure, assist us in acquiring knowledge, or in doing good to our fellow-creatures, is a kind and benevolent act of God. When they become unfit for these purposes and afford us pain instead of pleasure, instead of an aid become an encumbrance, and answer none of the intentions for which they were given, it is equally kind and benevolent that a way is pro- vided by which we may get rid of them. Death is that way. We ourselves, in some cases, prudently choose a partial death. A mangled, painful limb which cannot be restored we willingly cut off. He who plucks out a tooth parts with it freely, since the pain goes with it; and he who quits the whole body parts at once with all pains and possibilities of pains and diseases which it was liable to or capable of making him suffer.
Our friend and we were invited abroad on a party of pleasure which is to last forever. His chair was ready first and he is gone before us. We could not all conveniently start together, and why should you and I be grieved at this, since we are soon to follow and know where to find him? Adieu,
B. FRANKLIN