Mortality. The Merriam Webster Dictionary reminds us that being mortal means that we are subject to death. Mortality, then, means the state or quality of being mortal. To face my mortality means that I face the fact that I am subject to death.

This fact of life has brutally forced its way into my consciousness these past ten days with the very sudden passing of one of my co-workers. One day he was alive. And now he's dead. There is virtually nothing left of him on this earth. Except the genetics that he has passed on to his daughter and the memories implanted into the brains of those that knew him.

And what of me? And my mortality? Oh, it's not that I haven't thought of it before. Like most people, I've contemplated my own life and death. A couple of years ago I had one of those "cancer scares". I had a couple of weeks to consider what it might be like to be dying. To consider what my mark on the world might be. What do I leave behind? The answers then, as now, remain somewhat bleak. Not that I'm feeling sorry for myself or anything, but aside from all of the wonderful memories people will have of me and the genetics that I pass on to my son, what have I left the world that is of any real value? And is it important to leave the world with something other than my memory?

When I go camping I often take younger children with me - nieces, nephews, etc. I try to teach these kids to leave the place we are staying in better condition than when we arrivrd. We try to pick up all of our own trash, plus that left behind by others. We try to ensure that the place is pristine for the next people to use our spot. If I were to die tonight, will I have left the world in a better place than when I arrived? Some might say yes, but it's difficult to nail down such a concept when one hasn't accomplished anything specific.

Yes, it's true that I touch the hearts of people whenever I can. I try to be kind and thoughtful and to do good deeds. I try to model compassion and kindness. I have been politically active but I haven't been successful in stopping the bodies that I've tried to stop. It's true that, as a child protection worker, I've rescued children from horrendous living situations.

The question causes me to contemplate what more I can do. I feel even more driven to complete my education so that I can have a greater impact on others that I'm working with. I feel even more driven to write the things that I need to say so that my words will outlast my body.

And it occurs to me that in this way I "cling" to life. In this way I attach myself to my desire to make a difference in the world. Ahhh, the trappings of being mortal.