Confronting Death

I was reminded today of how life and death coexist together in a seamless balance of energy. Even as we are living, we are dying. In my belief system, I view death as a transition of energy. I don’t see it as an ending, but a new beginning. I wish death was something that was easier to talk about in our Western culture. We view death almost as a taboo. Most people think it’s depressing or morbid to speak about death. Most people fear it. So we keep quiet about it.

There are things I want to say to my mother and stepdad as they go through his struggle with cancer. I want to acknowledge the reality of the situation – that my mother will lose her beloved, her mate, her companion, her heart well before their golden years. I want her to know I’ll be there for her – that she can get angry about the unfairness of disease, cry with me when she grieves later on, that she can actually talk to me about how she feels.

I want Dale to know every day, every month, every year he is with us that I love him so very much. I want him to know how grateful I’ve been to have him to depend on. I want him to know how much it meant to see how loving he was with my mom, how amazing it has been to know she found love with her soulmate.

But for the most part I’ve kept pretty silent. I don’t know how to balance hope and present day reality versus the sadness of what will come in the future due to his illness in conversation. For someone who usually can find words, at least in writing, this not knowing what to say makes me frustrated. I think we want to be there for each other. I guess I’ve been just letting them have their own space to be together and work through it all. I guess I’ve been focused on the fact I will be there when thing do get worse…whenever that is…whether tomorrow, two months from now, or years from now. I hope in the meantime that my heart has been expressed enough to them through the years that they know how loved they are.

But back to the original point – we are all dying. So even if there is not an acute illness or circumstance afflicting you or your loved ones at this point in time, it is important to remember the fragility of life. In recognizing its fragility, that no one is guaranteed a tomorrow, we can come to fully honor life’s preciousness, its power. We can let go of past hurts and heal. We can forgive. We can remind someone how grateful we are for them. We can look someone in the eye and say “I love you.” We can laugh, cry, play, and celebrate life together.

If we choose to live in this manner, joyous memories will remain when it is time to say good-bye. Regrets won’t exist because we’ve loved fiercely and said what we needed to say.

I’d like to believe that if we live this way, when death does come it can come in a spirit of peace and release. Perhaps then it will finally not be something to fear but merely the balance to the energy of life.

Namaste.