Death

I know, I know, what a depressing topic.  However, with everything going on in my life right now, I have to write about this.  I mean, that was the point of me creating this blog.  Is to dig deep and find a new creative way to express myself at the same time exploring and confronting things that I have avoided.  Also considering that my main quote about being a madman in a box, is taken from a fictional character who, absolutely hates endings.  And that is what death is (for the most part, which we will get into later) the ultimate end.  Full disclosure the way I have dealt with this, when I look back at my life, can only be expressed as a cross between confusion, denial, and detachment.

Let’s start with the first one, as they are all three closely related.  From an intellectual standpoint, I understand what it means.  However, it seems that my mind has never been able to wrap itself around the concept as defined.  Growing up as a Christian, ultimately death was the end.  The bible states that there is now thoughts in the grave, and that there is “no work nor planning nor knowledge nor wisdom in the Grave”.  Therefore, when you die, well that’s it!  I have accepted this, and it makes sense.  However, when I think of someone being gone… simply not existing /alive, its beyond my capacity to fathom.  Which leads to the second feeling of denial.

I tend to therefore not believe that the person is actually gone.  In the deep recesses of my mind, its as if they are on vacation, or in some far away land that I cannot get to and they do not have access to a phone, or electronics.  I mean, I am old enough to remember life without cell phones.  So this way of thinking is not a huge reach for me.  It is possible that in my mind that I have retained and childlike view of death and until recently have not been able to move away from it.  Because quite honestly, I am figure this out as I am typing this out.  Let’s now discuss my detachment.

There is no other way to describe it than that, confusion to denial, it seems that I detach myself, from the reality of what has happened and at the same time the person who has passed.  Which kinda makes sense.  Since I have denied it and have a childlike belief that the person is simply physically somewhere else, I am not affected by it.  It is for all intense and purposes a coping mechanism.  It’s a pretty messed up coping mechanism since it does not really allow me the possibility to properly grieve.  Until the passing of my mother, at which point everything changed.  However, before we discuss that, an ever so brief history.

The very first time that someone close to me died, was one of my favorite aunts, growing up.  I used to spend my summers with her.  Mom told me that as a toddler, I used to call THIS aunt “mom”.  When I moved to Canada, I spent practically every summer with her.  When she passed, I was very young, possibly pre-teen.  I was not allowed to go to the funeral.  EVERYONE went except me.  The belief was because we were so close, I would not be able to handle it.  Therefore, right from the beginning, I was never able to properly start processing what happened.  Fast forward approximately 10 years, I have moved out of the house.  I am on my own, with very limited (basically none) contact with my family.  One day while hanging out at the mall, I run into a cousin of mine.  We start catching up.  I asked how my grandmother was (I lived with my grandmother for years, before moving to Canada to live with my mother).  This is when I found out that my grandmother had passed away the previous year.   So here we are I am an adult, and the two experiences of death in relation to someone close to me was mere “word of mouth”.  I mean, I had been to funerals for others, however, these were for people that were slightly more than acquaintances and/or family that I was not all that close to.  When mom died, everything changed.

When I say everything changed, I mean, the experience was visceral, and it was much more than hearsay.  Without reliving the whole experience, I was there at the hospital for a week, with my sisters, and my wife.  And we were with her when she finally passed.  This was the very first time that I actually FELT something… and boy did I feel it.  Since then (it’s been three years) I go back and forth from my old way of processing to trying to figure out HOW to process this.  My Christian beliefs promise that I will see her again when she is resurrected here on earth.  However, regardless of what anyone believes about death, it really boils down to the following quote I am about to share after giving a bit of context.  While at the hospital, a friend was visiting us, who had lost her mother, and shared the same hope/belief of seeing her again, and she said this: “Even though I know I will see my mom again, I want to see her NOW”!  That basically sums it up. It was irrelevant how my brain and my heart would process this; the reality is that I could NOT hug my mother anymore.  One day, I had a mother, and the next day… I did not.

One of the dumbest things, I have heard in relation to death, is usually in line with the belief or thought that death is normal, or part of some cycle.  No.  This is something I cannot accept.  Never have been able to.  When compared to other living beings on this planet, there are very few animals, that mourn the loss as we do.  For most of us, we grieve until we ourselves die.  We have conditioned ourselves to “move on”, however for many the loss of a loved one, especially a parent, child, or spouse is quite a traumatic event.  So, when someone says death is normal and is simply the cycle of life as if this was meant to happen its part of some greater plan, it is almost as if (to me anyway) saying being in an abusive relationship, (or anything that can cause long-lasting trauma) is normal and simply part of the cycle of existence.  If we said, it’s inevitable but not supposed to happen, it would make more sense to me.  Without going into the science of it, theoretically, our bodies, have the capacity to go on forever. (This is a whole other discussion).  At the end of the day, what I am trying to say, is that the main reason I, and by extension struggle with death, is because, on some level, we were not meant to deal with death.  However, because it is part of our reality, we find ways to.  Even many atheists, have a hard time believing that everything ends with the last breath you take.  There is an underlining need to believe that we can and will go on in some shape or form (again, an intriguing topic of discussion for another time).

So now today, I sit here writing this blog, as it’s been a week since my aunt has passed.  Like in earlier experiences, I have not seen it, I was not there, I will not be physically present at the funeral, however maybe because of what I went through with my mom, it is more real to me, and it really hurts.  This particular aunt was an inspiration to me in a way none of my other aunts were.  There are some very spiritual decisions I have made, based on her example.  In addition, she was one of the most resilient, and strongest women I knew.  Her courage knew no bounds.  Like my mother, she was a small woman, but in my mind’s eye, larger than life.  Because of my beliefs, I know I will see her again, however, I only wish I could see her NOW.