My religion gave me the imagery of death as the enemy. It taught me scriptures that said death was the enemy.

The last enemy that will be destroyed is death.  1 Corinthians 15:26

But these last few years, as I’ve borne witness to my dad dying little by little, piece by piece, I have begun to feel otherwise.

He fought death with every ounce of his will.  And his will was very strong. 

He could not embrace the enemy of death. 

He could not love that enemy. 

So, he lived much, much longer than anyone ever thought he would, could …… maybe should.

He lived miserably.  Without the ability to do for himself. Without his legs under him.  Without his mind serving him.  

He just could not let go.  

Maybe, just maybe, death is not always the enemy.

Maybe

Sometimes

Life is. 

Art by Carol McNeeley

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