Thoughts on Death

Today I wanted to try something a bit different in my writing. Though I have tried, I am not one for blog posting. I hardly think my life is entertaining enough, nor do I take the time to research and create an educational or entertainment based blog. I’ve fantasized having a blog about urban legends and spooky stories… but ultimately have crushed those dreams. But before I digress too much into the dreams of old, I should probably get to the point of this blog. And that would be death.

If you haven’t read much of my other posts, and know nothing of me, I often call myself a friend of death. I have a particular fascination with it and as a result know far too much about religion, spirituality, and different cultural practices. It has been a force in my life for a very long time, and I have often found myself wondering about my own ultimate end. Which is a bit morbid for someone who is only in her twenties.

But I have been surrounded by death. The loss of multiple family pets, family members, childhood friends and classmates; have filled my life from a very young age. Both the traumatic untimely end and the natural close to a long life. I would hardly call myself an expert, but I know my way around it. And I know that no matter how many times I see it and come face to face with it; I will never react in the same way. And nothing will ever prepare me for another loss. Because, you can never really be ready for these things. No matter how long you’ve had to process that it will happen. And no matter the cause, I am a firm believer that it will never be fair. Not even when I get the day old line, “It was their time…” Trust me I know it was. That doesn’t make it any better. Please throw out that saying, and above all else please stop saying your sorry. Unless your absolutely sure the person you are speaking with will take it well. I think the worst thing I have ever had to deal with is the amount of people who tell me they are sorry. It’s an over used word, and that’s coming from a Canadian!

Today has been a hard one of contemplation. As I find myself empathetic and saddened by the potential loss of another. I have spoken with this person multiple times, know them and generally appreciate them as a human being; but in reality I have not known them long. Yet their impending death hurts my soul. And it breaks my heart to watch their child, someone I have come to know and regard as a wonderful friend and teacher, bear this pain. Ultimately it is not my place to go on about this and I won’t be filling the post with the obvious. Nor do I intend to use it to make others feel bad for me. At the end of the day, it is the driving force that has brought me to wonder about death again. And has brought me towards singing and hoping for a better outcome. It confirms my suspicions about myself. It confirms that it is not the trauma that keeps me away from my old faith…. It is the impracticality of it. I have full moved on to become a pagan and for that I am happier. For that death and I can be both friends and terrible enemies. But I digress once again. Frankly this is not the post for religion or faith. Maybe one day I will write about it. But today, today I want to explore death.

For something that happens to everyone, death is unknown. It is yet another thing that rips us from our comfort zone. A monster that not even our trusty blanket can save us from. It is the villain in paintings and stories and yet it is also the misunderstood Spector. It never comes the same. As if every one of us has a different reaper destined to take us out. And I have so many questions for it. But no one has any answers for me. No matter how scientific, enlightened or crazy someone is, they never have any answers about death and why. Theories yes. And I applaud those who have arrived at a conclusion and have been able to place enough faith in it to have peace. I have not had this luxury and for that will run myself into the ground chasing after a riddle that perhaps cannot be answered. The day old question is, would you want to know? If you could know when you die would you want to know. I use to think that was crazy of course I wouldn’t want to know. But some days, like today. I think I would like to. Because the suspense of it all kills me. And knowing that the suspensive of it can kill other people. I don’t think I even want to be in the hospital clinging on to life. Wondering what day is next. Of course being the person that I am, we are all technically hanging in that state right now. No one is promised the next day. And no matter how much we think we will wake up the next day, we very well may not. And I do not think this is bleak. And that could be the reason I am so obsessed with it. In theory I have time. But in reality… I have no real way of knowing. And this is perhaps the main reason I find myself ultimately unhappy with the current state of my life that feels unescapable. And why I firmly let people know that no, I do not want to work 40 hours every week for the next 40 years of my life just to get by and never really have the time to live. The time to visit with my family more. Because so long as there is no surprises…. I am not promised my parents to still be around when I am close to retiring. Just because I have had great grandparents who have made it that long, does not promise itself to this cycle, to this generation.

I don’t want to work until I die. I do not want to settle for a job. I don’t want to hold on to this hope that one day I will find a role that I can be happy in. There is already so many things in life that cannot be controlled. And the moment I do not have this ever looming debit over my head. I want to run towards more moments. So that when I am living another day like today, and I wonder, when, how and why will I die. I also have the times to remember. Memories that are more than just a handful and pent up regret in wishing that things could be different. And living in a state that toes the line of life and death.