"Now comes the mystery," were the last words of the famous clergyman Henry Ward Beecher.
"After all, to the organized mind, Death is but the next great adventure," Dumbledoor explains to Harry Potter.
Most try to hedge their bets and have it all figured out in advance.
Leaving the body to decay ... the spirit sours and we are whisked to ... Heaven or Hell ... Paradise or Oblivion ... new bodies take the place of the old ones ... blazing white light guide us to wherever we're going ... deceased family members wait with open arms ... we live on the memories of those who love us ... St. Peter waits to check us in ... we become part of a grander existence.
Or not.
We take these things on faith because none of us have first hand experience.
We just have the word of others.
"Now comes the mystery ... indeed!"
The deathbed is the beginning of the next great adventure ... or the adventure really is ending and we bring the curtain down on our life as gracefully we capable.
"I think we're going to see Art again," Sarah's ten year old says to me last night.
"Do you now?" I ask dragging my toes in the sand sitting in a swing waiting for the moon to rise.
"I do," she defiantly exclaims.
"Good," I say putting my arm around her shoulder. "That'd be nice."
The channel markers blink red and green dancing on the calm ocean.
The white lights of the gambling boat and the tanker ships lining up to enter the Savannah River look like stars on the water.
Constellations form in a pitch black sky.
"You're going to die before my Mom," she says out of nowhere.
"Well aren't you full of happy thoughts tonight?"
"She'll be a widow," she says wiping her eyes.
"What if I'm a widower?"
"What a widower?" she asks with a confused face.
"Who knows Laurel?" I say standing up. "Life's a gift. I don't know how much I got but I sure as hell like it. I like your Mom's too. And I like that we get do stuff like this."
"The moon hasn't risen yet," she protests.
"Yeah, that's a bummer. We gotta go home."
"Okay," she says falling into step beside me. "Can we come tomorrow night?"
"I hope so," I tell her throwing my arm around her shoulder again.
"Who knows?"
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