Fragility Of Life

I took a long, slow walk last evening, saying my Rosary as I strolled. Tiny spring flowers were peeking up through the mast, winking in the dimming light, reminding me that life returns, that certain promises are always kept.  While whispering the ancient prayers, I also kept an eye out for the bull over whose health I have been so concerned lately. I never saw him. I will continue to look for him, and in the meantime, I will continue to hope that he was healed as miraculously as our little dog Dixee was. I hope he is on a sunny slope this morning, cropping grass and eyeing the cows with benign interest.

While sipping my coffee this morning, I browsed the news and saw the story of a truck driver in Arkansas who was killed when his tractor trailer-load of ammonium nitrate exploded, blowing a crater in the highway and causing shocking destruction for miles around. The news reports said that the driver, 63 year-old Randall McDougal of El Dorado, AR, had noticed that one of his wheels was on fire. He had pulled over, called 911, and attempted to put out the fire himself. Mr. McDougal was reportedly walking back to the truck when it exploded.

I thought of this working man on the drive to work this morning. I drove in safety down mountain roads, watching the winking of house lights in the distance, and my heart was heavy when I thought of how Mr. McDougal will never again drive off to work….will never again pull his truck into his home driveway. He was a working man, not too far from his hometown, when God called him into eternity. I do not know if Mr. McDougal was married or had any family, but I  pray that any survivors might be comforted by the Father’s promises, and I pray that He will put tender-hearted individuals all around Mr. McDougal’s loved ones.

It can all go away so quickly, can’t it? We all know this intellectually, but we forget it easily, for all practical purposes. These days, though, I  never kiss my lovely wife good-bye without being aware of the fact that I might very well not ever see her again in this life. Memento mori. May our Father use memento mori to keep our hearts and minds and souls focused on the truly important.

If you are so inclined, please say a prayer for the repose of Mr. McDougal’s soul, and for the comfort of his family. And please say a prayer for the bull.

Life is fragile. And precious. And it is speeding away, so quickly. So very quickly.

~ S.K. Orr