It's rare that mortality lands a square punch with me. Death is one of those facts that I acknowledge with a sidelong glance. Don't make eye contact, and maybe I won't be obliged to have a conversation.
And yet it has been dogging me in small ways over the past several weeks. Reminders of a beloved grandpa. Questions from my kindergartner. A conversation with a friend about becoming a widow (or widower), and whether remarriage is a prospect worth any consideration. (We decided men should absolutely remarry. Women, maybe not.) But these were glancing blows... uncomfortable momentary dialogues. The intestinal flutter that a truly morbid thought can inspire. But not ever really real.
And then I got the text that my friend's father, who has been fighting cancer for over a year, died. I tell you truly that the only thing that scares me more than my own death is losing a loved one. I mean an utterly essential beloved: A child, a husband, a parent.
This friend is a pretty tough woman. She's not particularly into girl talk. She's funny and sarcastic and totally together. I don't think in ten years I ever once saw her cry. Until her dad got sick.
And now he's gone. Her kid, just a year older than my daughter, just lost an amazing grandpa. He's not going to be at her wedding or see her graduate college or even see what a beautiful girl she'll become. My friend doesn't get to hug her dad again, or laugh with him. And she was lucky - - she had a really great dad.
I guess this is one of the reasons we have friends. We learn from each other's experiences. I will watch her walk through this unthinkable time, and be there for her to lean on if I can. And because she'll have done it, I'll have the strength of knowing it's possible when it's my turn to face loss without the luxury of averting my eyes.
Seconded, and noted.
ReplyDeleteImagine too, how that circle of friends includes people that have already been there and now see a dear friend going through the same thing you went through years before. It's bitter sweet - bringing up reminders of your own loss, but knowing that you can also - with confidence and surity that only comes from experience - let your friend know that indeed life does go on.
Re-emerging into the world... I walk a little lighter now, am a bit less surly. Because nothing is as important as life and the ones you love. The good coming from the bad is a new awareness of what's important - and what's not. Being totally committed and in love with your family and friends is important. Telling them you love them and soaking in every moment is important. Being able to count on them to lift you up - very important.
ReplyDeleteIt makes all of the rest of the bullshit and drama slough away leaving a certain clarity and strength to embrace the good, or walk away from the bad.