In Passing...
We all know that life is short, precious, and should be cherished. We also all forget that at times - most times. It is so easy to get caught up in whatever and get swept into a that all too familiar place where we take things for granted and forget to count our blessings.
In the last 5 weeks I have seen four deaths. None were terribly personal or close to me, but all four were tragic. After Jason lost his cousin on 10/7 (age 43, unexpected), two girls that I went to high school with each lost a father. Both men were in their early 60's, and both died completely unexpectedly. Just a few days ago a friendship that dates back to elementary school ended following the murder of my friend, age 31. Again, we weren't close and I have no right to claim any personal hurt. But, I look at the people that are still standing, the families of the ones that have passed, and my heart breaks for them. The wake left after a death can be very bleak and consuming. It is the family left behind that suffers. We are the ones with empty places where nothing else will ever fit just exactly right again. Today I am thinking of these four families, these four groups of people that have to learn to smile through the tears. It seems to be the only way.
These circumstances spurred some thought, and a short conversation between Jason and I. I asked Jason if her would rather have lost his father Elliott unexpectedly, as these families did, or if the year of cancer treatments, deteriorating health, and finally hospice were the better option. He was very quick to answer that he would have rather had the quick loss, mostly so that Elliott's suffering would not have happened at all. He said that he appreciated the time they had, the final talks, the promises to take care of Mom, and the goodbyes, but he would have gladly given all of that up if it meant a quick and painless death for his father. Not only did Elliott suffer incredible pain, so did all those around him that stood by with little idea of how to help.
Elliott died in March. In September my friend Tim entered hospice due to his illness, AIDS. He died the following February. He suffered in much the same way that Elliott did - at the end of it all, it doesn't matter what illness is wracking your body, it hurts just the same. Again, I sat, helpless, wanting to ease his pain, wanting to do anything to help. This time around, I was brave. I asked all the questions that losing Elliott had left me with. I asked Tim why he was going through with this slow, painful death. It was imminent, no escaping it. In my mind it seemed so much easier to end it on his own, quick and easy. I was surprised to hear his response. He would have loved a quick, easy end. He could have chosen that road, but, he didn't because he didn't want to hurt anyone. He suffered so that people could have the chance to spend as much time with him as they wanted. His final 3 months were pure hell, to the point that I wanted to end it for him. I wanted him to get angry and tell everyone where to go, he was dying and that was it! But, with the passing days he actually gained more peace. My feelings were misplaced. Now I can look back as see that Tim was hurting for me, and for all of us that he was leaving behind. His final acts were as selfless as it gets.
We do not know when death will visit our door. We cannot prepare. There are bound to be days that are hard, and sad, and that tears make the best company, but we have to learn to continue to live, to honor those that have left us, suddenly or after long and painful trials. I think that the very best way for me to honor Elliot, Tim, and the four people that have just died, is to enjoy those that are still alive.
In the last 5 weeks I have seen four deaths. None were terribly personal or close to me, but all four were tragic. After Jason lost his cousin on 10/7 (age 43, unexpected), two girls that I went to high school with each lost a father. Both men were in their early 60's, and both died completely unexpectedly. Just a few days ago a friendship that dates back to elementary school ended following the murder of my friend, age 31. Again, we weren't close and I have no right to claim any personal hurt. But, I look at the people that are still standing, the families of the ones that have passed, and my heart breaks for them. The wake left after a death can be very bleak and consuming. It is the family left behind that suffers. We are the ones with empty places where nothing else will ever fit just exactly right again. Today I am thinking of these four families, these four groups of people that have to learn to smile through the tears. It seems to be the only way.
These circumstances spurred some thought, and a short conversation between Jason and I. I asked Jason if her would rather have lost his father Elliott unexpectedly, as these families did, or if the year of cancer treatments, deteriorating health, and finally hospice were the better option. He was very quick to answer that he would have rather had the quick loss, mostly so that Elliott's suffering would not have happened at all. He said that he appreciated the time they had, the final talks, the promises to take care of Mom, and the goodbyes, but he would have gladly given all of that up if it meant a quick and painless death for his father. Not only did Elliott suffer incredible pain, so did all those around him that stood by with little idea of how to help.
Elliott died in March. In September my friend Tim entered hospice due to his illness, AIDS. He died the following February. He suffered in much the same way that Elliott did - at the end of it all, it doesn't matter what illness is wracking your body, it hurts just the same. Again, I sat, helpless, wanting to ease his pain, wanting to do anything to help. This time around, I was brave. I asked all the questions that losing Elliott had left me with. I asked Tim why he was going through with this slow, painful death. It was imminent, no escaping it. In my mind it seemed so much easier to end it on his own, quick and easy. I was surprised to hear his response. He would have loved a quick, easy end. He could have chosen that road, but, he didn't because he didn't want to hurt anyone. He suffered so that people could have the chance to spend as much time with him as they wanted. His final 3 months were pure hell, to the point that I wanted to end it for him. I wanted him to get angry and tell everyone where to go, he was dying and that was it! But, with the passing days he actually gained more peace. My feelings were misplaced. Now I can look back as see that Tim was hurting for me, and for all of us that he was leaving behind. His final acts were as selfless as it gets.
We do not know when death will visit our door. We cannot prepare. There are bound to be days that are hard, and sad, and that tears make the best company, but we have to learn to continue to live, to honor those that have left us, suddenly or after long and painful trials. I think that the very best way for me to honor Elliot, Tim, and the four people that have just died, is to enjoy those that are still alive.
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