Death Becomes Us All

If there is one thing that I have learned about death and dying, it is that no one can escape it; we will all die. It is a harsh reality that has been ingrained into our heads, many of us from our early childhood. And yet death still seems to be this frightening, elusive thing that we all forget about until it happens. How is it that we can get so lost, so caught up in the monotony of our everyday lives that we forget this simple truth?

In the past month, a good friend of mine lost her dad and last week I lost my granddad. Finding the words to comfort those who are dealing with these losses is often the hardest part of death; is not knowing what to say better than saying nothing at all? I think many people gravitate towards the typical, "I'm so sorry. Is there anything that you need or anything that I can do?" Often this response to a death seems fake and hurried, as if the person saying it just wants the mourner to say, "No, thank you, I'm fine" and walk away. But I think people truly do mean that they are sorry, they just may not have the words to articulate their feelings of sympathy and support.

Death is unique as well as universal. How a person dies can often complicate or simplify the grieving process of those left behind, as well as the relationship that each person had with the deceased. In the case of myself and my granddad, I was saddened, but not by his death, I was saddened because he and my father were so close and I was unable to be with my father during this time in his life. I felt his pain and sorrow at loosing his father, his last parent, and in a way, becoming an orphan. While I did not have the relationship with my granddad as my father had, the connection that I have with my father is strong and therefore, I share his pain.

The lesson that I continue to learn about death is that you must enjoy living. If I learned anything from my granddad it is simply to live life and leave no stone left unturned, no river un-fished, no path uncrossed. He lived to be ninety plus years old, retired in his early fifties, loved, lost, traveled, had three children, many grandchildren and great grandchildren. He lived his life and that is what makes our journey here, however long or short, worthwhile. To cherish those who we hold dear, to learn all that we can learn, to fail gracefully, to make an impact and to absorb the beauty in the small wonders that we have been given.

To fully live my life is a tremendous feat, but when my time comes my hope is that those who knew and loved me will know that I loved and lived, and they will do the same.