Good morning…
Before J Schroeder died, he taught people how to live. Stepping up to the microphone at his memorial service, his deeply loved wife described J as “a force of nature,” admitting “Everyone wanted to be in his orbit.” Grateful for joy-filled years together, she said, “I am so glad he chose me.” After sharing bonding stories, she read aloud a poem, a poem she found folded neatly in his wallet after J died, a poem J carried and lived each day.
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How Did You Die? by Edmund Vance Cooke
Did you tackle that trouble that came your way
With a resolute heart and cheerful?
Or hide your face from the light of day
With a craven soul and fearful?
Oh, a trouble’s a ton, or a trouble’s an ounce,
Or a trouble is what you make it,
And it isn’t the fact that you’re hurt that counts,
But only how did you take it?
You are beaten to earth? Well, well, what’s that?
Come up with a smiling face.
It’s nothing against you to fall down flat,
But to lie there — that’s disgrace.
The harder you’re thrown, why the higher you bounce;
Be proud of your blackened eye!
It isn’t the fact that you’re licked that counts,
It’s how did you fight — and why?
And though you be done to the death, what then?
If you battled the best you could,
If you played your part in the world of men,
Why, the Critic will call it good.
Death comes with a crawl, or comes with a pounce,
And whether he’s slow or spry,
It isn’t the fact that you’re dead that counts,
But only how did you die?
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Looking into the life of this poet, I learned that Edmund Vance Cooke was born in 1866 in Ontario, Canada and died in 1932. Interestingly, Edmund began working at the White Sewing Machine Co. factory as a teen and stayed there for fourteen hardworking years, until he became a self-employed poet and lecturer in 1893. He was a passionate, highly entertaining artist who, along with many children’s books, published sixteen collections of poetry during the course of his career. Edmund died at age sixty-six. J Schroeder died at sixty-one. How did both of these men die? They each died living fully.
Now it is our turn to become lovers of everyday life, to battle our best, to play our small part in this big world, and to trust our Creator to call our gift “good.” Children, you belong to God, and you have defeated these enemies (fear, trouble, hurt, falling down flat, blackened eyes, hard licks, and ultimately death). God’s Spirit is in you and is more powerful than the one that is in the world (1 John 4:4, CEV).
So my friends, J and Edmund would say just like the writer of Ecclesiastes 9:7-9 (MSG): Seize life! Eat bread with gusto, drink wine with a robust heart. Oh yes—God takes pleasure in your pleasure! Dress festively every morning. Don’t skimp on colors and scarves. Relish life with the spouse you love, each and every day of your precarious life. Each day is God’s gift. It’s all you get in exchange for the hard work of staying alive. Make the most of each one! Whatever turns up, grab it and do it. And heartily!
…Sue…
P.S. The male voice reading aloud this poem sounds to my ears a lot like my good friend Jerry Coker, one of our subscribers who loves life wholeheartedly, much like J and Edmund loved life with gusto. Enjoy to this empowering rendition.
