In Memory
Someone in my extended family died two nights ago. In the middle of the night. My daughter texted me to tell me. It was not a surprise, one of the illnesses that takes people but gives notice. However, he was young. 44, I think. No kids, but had a wife. Those are always the first questions - who did he leave behind?
I will not be going to the funeral, but my kids are. I took care of the logistics yesterday. And I cried, on and off. Sometime I just cried, really without thought, only the feeling of sadness. But I can only go without thought for a very short period of time.
So I thought about sadness. And death. I felt two kinds of sadness. One, painful, if only, I wish I had...One, sweeter but just as sad if not sadder, oh, his self has left the earth, and his self was a pleasure. And it's gone.
Maybe this gives me a way to see my own future death, which I am so afraid of. Make sure I know who I leave behind and that they will be OK despite their sadness. Make sure to keep the if only to a minimum. I have always said that I only regret what I don't do. And then, in the face of the sadness of my self has left the earth, what are the sweet things that I will cry never to see again. There are so many. It's not the things in themselves, it's the experience of encountering them. I will be just as sad never to see the red brake lights of cars ahead of me in a rainstorm, as I will be never to feel my fingers on my skin when I touch my own face, as I will be never to pour hot water into my teacup in the morning.
That problem no thought can solve.
I will not be going to the funeral, but my kids are. I took care of the logistics yesterday. And I cried, on and off. Sometime I just cried, really without thought, only the feeling of sadness. But I can only go without thought for a very short period of time.
So I thought about sadness. And death. I felt two kinds of sadness. One, painful, if only, I wish I had...One, sweeter but just as sad if not sadder, oh, his self has left the earth, and his self was a pleasure. And it's gone.
Maybe this gives me a way to see my own future death, which I am so afraid of. Make sure I know who I leave behind and that they will be OK despite their sadness. Make sure to keep the if only to a minimum. I have always said that I only regret what I don't do. And then, in the face of the sadness of my self has left the earth, what are the sweet things that I will cry never to see again. There are so many. It's not the things in themselves, it's the experience of encountering them. I will be just as sad never to see the red brake lights of cars ahead of me in a rainstorm, as I will be never to feel my fingers on my skin when I touch my own face, as I will be never to pour hot water into my teacup in the morning.
That problem no thought can solve.
Labels: The Death Problem
posted by LPC at
9:49 AM
2 Comments:
I'm sorry for your family's loss. Yes, the unknown is quite scary. It's strange how your loved one can just be gone. Especially when they're young. Although I myself don't want to die anytime soon either -- I find myself not as scared anymore. My younger brother is hanging around the universe somewhere now. When he almost died (before he actually did), he said he felt peaceful, saw light, and saw our grandparents. I'm not very religious or necessarily spiritual, but it brought me peace and hope that there may be something out there. Someday.
Peace to you! (And good luck as a Mother of the Bride, as I found your blog through A Practical Wedding).
Your kind comments are much appreciated. I must say, Meg at the Practical has very lovely readers. I am also sorry for the loss of your younger brother. Perhaps he knows even now that you have found some peace and hope. That at least is my wish.
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