I chose to forgo the question of the week because I just learned of the sudden passing this weekend of a colleague and mentor of mine, professor Tom Luster. Tom was a professor in the Department of Family and Child Ecology here at MSU where I did my studies. I have known Tom for almost 20 years, and he was, to all who knew him, the consummate educator and researcher. To me, he will always be the man who unselfishly prepared me to get through my dissertation and thus allow me to graduate.
In 1992, I was a struggling doctoral student who was ready to quit and go ABD (All But Dissertation). It was then that I turned to a young assistant professor, not much older than I at the time, and asked him if he would help me with my data. He responded, “Sure, I’ll help you!” With that he chose to take on a worn out doctoral student, struggling to analyze his data and frankly devoted a good portion of his spare time to get me through. I learned from my time with Tom Luster.
I am not writing to extol the virtues of this honorable man; others will do that in the weeks to follow. I am writing about yet another lesson I may just now be learning sparked by his sudden passing and is germane to us all.
You see, the part of life I still don’t quite understand is death. I understand that, in theory, we all must pass from this life at some point and, having been raised Catholic, I am fully versed in what the doctrines tell me about death. What I don’t understand is why I, and many others, still choose not to look at it as part of life. Maybe it is because death has always been portrayed to me as an ending cloaked in darkness and sadness. After all, it is contrary to what we have been taught about what life should be — at least in this culture. Death is supposed to be the end of life, not part of it. Or, is it?
I had already been thinking more about death these days due to the fact that both of my parents are in their mid 80s and both of them have had heart problems of late. This dynamic has started a dialogue among the siblings as to the inevitability of their passing. It is not something I look forward to and, frankly, I am not sure I am really prepared for. Really, how does one prepare for death? I have been present when others have passed from this life and at times I have had to be the one to tell others that they have contracted an infection that might take their life at some time, but still, I am not sure that really ever prepares you for an understanding of your own passing or of those you are close to.
You see, as health educators we are expected to, and do, spend most of our time talking to members of our community about living. We extol the virtues of living with vitality and avoiding the possible consequences of certain behaviors. We try and get people to see the wisdom in making changes in their behavior so as to extend their life and improve the quality of it. We prepare people to do such things as having sex with safety and to drink with civility. What we don’t do is spend time preparing people for the part of life we call death.
One of my colleagues from Europe may have said it best when he remarked, “You Americans are so unprepared for life. In Europe we know that death is inevitable. You folks still think it is an option.”
Maybe he is onto something.
If we were more prepared to accept death as part of life, we may be more prepared to embrace the moments of life more fully and not fear the closure of life. Life would then become not so much about extending the moments of your life, but more about embracing the individual moments of your life. Maybe this is the lesson I need to learn and to then to pass on to others as part of health.
Tom, you will be missed. Thank you for the lessons learned.
Peace, Dr. D.
Dennis Martell, Ph.D., is a coordinator of Olin Heath Center education. E-mail him your questions at dennis.martell@ht.msu.edu.
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