The Death of Murray Alexander Ceff
I've been inspired to write this piece after reading the Tolstoy novella, The Death of Ivan Ilyich. (This 12 chapter novella would be a great start for anyone wanting to start reading Tolstoy, to become familiar with his style of writing, before you tackle War and Peace or Anna Karenina.)
I felt inspired to read this at 3am this morning after my regular bathroom visit and having a difficult time getting back to sleep. I had absolutely no idea what to expect in the story, but have grown familiar with Tolstoy having read Childhood, Boyhood, and part of Youth. So I knew what to expect in terms of writing style at least, and his usual setting of 19th century Russia. When I saw that it was only 12 chapters I didn't expect to finish it all within a few hours though.
In a nutshell, Ivan Ilyich lives and dies in late 19th Century Russia and struggles to accept the life he leads and searches for meaning in his life, particularly as he suffers from a terminal illness, inexplicably the result of a simple accident. He suffers for years, with little sympathy from his family and friends or the medical profession. He forms a close relationship with a young servant boy, Gerasim, whom he needs to assist him with bathroom visits (we are spared the details fortunately). The devotion of Gerasim is such that he sits at the end of Ivans bed to allow Ivan to rest his feet on Gerasims shoulders, thus elevating his legs and providing some comfort.
Even before his illness, Ivans family life was dysfunctional. His married life became intolerable for him once he became a father and he spent more and more time focussing on his career in the judiciary. He overspent and hence needed a higher paying position, which he obtained in a different location, which necessitated his family moving. While he was preparing the new family home, he fell and injured himself, which precipitated the illness which eventually killed him.
Close the end of his illness, his wife suggested he receive communion from the local priest. Ivan was not a religious man at all. He revelled in the power and position of being a judge. He was not comfortable with other people, like doctors, judging him. He felt some degree of reprieve after taking communion, but negative feelings, particularly towards his wife, quickly returned and after three days of screaming in agony, he died.
“Yes, I am making them wretched,” he thought (as he was about to die). “They are sorry, but it will be better for them when I die.” He wished to say this but had not the strength to utter it. “Besides, why speak? I must act,” he thought. with a look at his wife he indicated his son and said: “Take him away... sorry for him... sorry for you too...” He tried to add, “Forgive me,” but said “Forego” and waved his hand, knowing that He whose understanding mattered would understand.
He sought his former accustomed fear of death and did not find it. “Where is it? What death?” There was no fear because there was no death. In place of death there was light. “So that’s what it is!” he suddenly exclaimed aloud. “What joy!”
“It is finished!” said someone near him. He heard these words and repeated them in his soul. “Death is finished,” he said to himself. “It is no more!” He drew in a breath, stopped in the midst of a sigh, stretched out, and died. (Tolstoy, Leo. Leo Tolstoy: The Complete Novels and Novellas (pp. 2049-2050). Pandora's Box. Kindle Edition.)
Poor Ivan did not discover the meaning of life until it was too late to live in a way that really mattered.
For the past several months, I have suffered from disabling back pain. The young Murray Ceff who was not really that athletic, but always busy with various types of surfing, is dying. Maybe he's dead already! I cannot do what I have always loved doing. That part of me has died.
I do feel somewhat useless at home. I am coming to grips with what I can and can't do. As Margot and I are preparing to go away as missionaries, we need to prepare our house to be rented out. There is a lot of cleaning up do - decluttering completely, most of which is beyond my pain threshold at the moment. A completely prolapsed disc pushing on spinal nerves will have that result in most people I think.
I injured myself surfing with a customer on June 21st, almost 4 weeks ago. My darling wife had suggested having a priesthood blessing sometime after that, but it wasn't until last Sunday that I felt it was the right time to do that. I have turned a corner since then, with slight less pain, and more toleration for the pain that I do experience.
For the past several weeks I have been memorizing this scripture from Alma chapter 7.
"And he shall go forth, suffering pains and aafflictions and btemptations of every kind; and this that the word might be fulfilled which saith he will ctake upon him the pains and the sicknesses of his people." Christ's atonement does not only bring about the resurrection and the forgiveness of sins. As we exercise faith in the Saviour, our burdens can be lightened as we take upon us his yoke.
From Matthew Chapter 11 -
28 ¶ aCome unto me, all ye that blabour and are heavy laden, and I will give you crest.
29 Take my ayoke upon you, and blearn of me; for I am cmeek and dlowly in eheart: and ye shall find frest unto your souls.
30 For my yoke is aeasy, and my burden is light.
What lesson did I learn from The Death of Ivan Ilyich? I learned that the Death of Murray Alexander Ceff can be quite different. I have learned that I don't want to be like him. I have learned that even though I am in pain, I don't need to be a pain in the backside for other people. I don't need to be ill-mannered and grumpy.
Even though I am in pain, and part of me is dead, because I have been fortunate enough to discover the meaning of life at an early age, I can easily accept that because I suddenly can't do what I have always loved doing (although I think there is a chance I might be able to kitesurf a little bit) life is still good and worth living, and most importantly still has meaning.
I hope that you too can discover the meaning of life!
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