The Last Day

I just came from the funeral service of a young man, a husband and father of four, who was still alive this time yesterday. Yesterday night, he went for a jog, and in the middle, he dropped dead from a heart attack. Just like that, with no warning.
 
It wasn’t because of a terrorist, or a bomb, or an illness, or an accident; it was only because Hashem decreed that the time had come for him to return his soul to his Maker.
 
In the UK, Jewish funerals are very low-key affairs, with most of the eulogies either said in shul, or by the graveside. In Israel, everyone gathers by the mourners’ home, and the eulogies are delivered outside, there, on the pavement next to the house where the person lived, ate, and slept.
 
In Israel, death isn’t just something that happens in hospitals and cemeteries; death happens literally right next door. For a non-Israeli, it can take some getting used to. Hundreds of people came to escort the deceased to his final resting place, and as we walked behind the funeral cortege, I pondered on how fragile, how fleeting, life really is.
 
It’s a strange quirk of human nature that so many of us try to avoid thinking about death and dying; death is something that happens to other people, not us. But that’s not what our Sages teach. Our Sages teach that we should repent the day before our death – and as none of us know when that really is going to be, we should make teshuva every single day.
 
As I walked, I wondered how different the world would look if people realized how temporary it all was. Husbands and wives wouldn’t argue over stupid, petty nonsense any more. People wouldn’t fret over the promotion they missed out on, or the raise that never materialized. Neighbors wouldn’t argue over whose tree was dropping what mess on whose garden, or whose dog was making so much noise – when you don’t know if you have another day on this earth, you don’t want to waste it on such stupidity.
 
Instead, you’d walk around and thank G-d that you have the ability to even move. You’d watch your kids play in the park, and thank G-d for the privilege of being the one assigned to cook and clean for them, and care for them as they grow up. You’d do the washing with a song in your heart that you had a husband who needed his shirts ironed. You’d leave the office on time. Maybe, you’d even quit that job that you hate so much – life’s too short to have eight hours of work-torture a day.
 
How different it would all be.
 
At the time of writing, storm clouds are gathering. Every day brings more ‘bad’ news, whether its earthquakes, tsunamis, flood, oil leaks, nuclear meltdowns, financial disasters, crop failures, freak weather, or a sharp rise in global unrest and military conflicts.
 
Everywhere you look, the safe status quo is disappearing.
 
Here in Israel, more and more of my friends and neighbors are being called into ‘war planning’ meetings, to discuss what their role will be when the war starts. No one is talking about ‘if’ anymore. And the scenarios being painted in these meetings are very, very serious.
 
According to the laws of nature, Israel is completely stuffed, G-d forbid. Thank G-d, Israel never works according to the laws of so-called ‘nature’ – Hashem is so obvious here, even secular leaders like David Ben Gurion used to factor in the ‘5% miracle’ into their plans and calculations.
 
Regardless of who seems outwardly religious, everyone who lives here, and who has no intention of trying to ‘escape to safety’ out of the country once the hostilities start, G-d forbid, knows Who is really running the show.
 
It’s not Barack Obama, or the Palestinians, or the Europeans, or the Saudis, or the Knesset. It’s only G-d.
 
G-d will decide if you go to bed tonight, and if you wake up tomorrow morning. Only G-d. Nothing is guaranteed, wherever you may live, whatever you might be doing, however old or young you are, or whether you’re currently sick or currently healthy.
 
Many people find this thought deeply disturbing and upsetting, and they push it far away. But, if you really think about it, if you really internalize it, it’s the secret to living the most fulfilled, grateful, and happy life possible.
 
Do you really care that someone pushes in front of you if today is your last day? Are you going to waste it on pointless arguments and stress, or are you going to smile and say ‘thank you’ to Hashem for another small, relatively painless soul-correction?
 
Are you really going to spend your last day screaming at your kids for all the mess they made in the living room, or are you going to cuddle them, kiss them, and tell them how much you love them?
 
Are you going to moan about having to check in with your parents, or are you going to call them and tell them how grateful you are for all the love, time and effort they put in to you?
 
And our spouses. Our overlooked, neglected, all-too-often-abused spouses; what are we going to tell them? Are we going to tell them how grateful we are every morning when we wake up next to them? How much we appreciate what they do for us, whether it’s going to work, or making the house a home? Are we going to apologize for all the stupid comments and criticisms we make? All the unkind words that we said in a moment of anger? All the stupid arguments, when we dug our heels in and were happy to hurt them if it meant we could feel superior, or get our own way?
 
What if today is your last day, and you wasted it complaining that they don’t earn enough, or don’t help enough, or aren’t good enough?
 
Don’t push off saying thank you, or telling them you love them, or apologizing, for another day. For all of us, everywhere, today is all we have.