Oh, Death
It is inevitable and yet still manages to sneak up on you. Sometimes, death appears so quickly that even it is surprised to be there. Although, it can also linger in the background, waiting and waiting for the opportune moment.
In the end, I think that we all want generally the same thing; to go quietly, without a fuss, to feel satisfied, complete, that our work is done, and especially to have our loved ones feel comfortable. These things are, of course, very difficult to measure, and I would guess that only a small percentage of people actually get the death they envision. Or maybe I’m wrong.
I have been directly and indirectly involved in deaths of all types; murder, negligence, trauma, respiratory arrest, suicide, miscarriage, cardiac arrest. I have taken people from their homes to hospice, caressed the foot of a dying baby, withheld intervention, performed pointless CPR, told people their mother was dead. Unfortunately, none of this has made death any easier. I wish that these experiences had given me great insight, the perfect thing to say to comfort my mourning friends, but they have not. I still do what anyone else does, console as best I can, and just plain be there, somehow knowing when to talk and when to listen.
Most deaths I believe could be safely categorized as unfair. And by unfair, I mean untimely. I have seen far too many untimely deaths. Saying that a death is a relief can seem a bit barbaric to me as it is fairly rare to experience a timely death. Although, I do believe it is possible, and I have seen it.
I’d rather feel a bit barbaric than to say that a death is ‘meant to be’ or ‘for a reason’ as this is absolute crap.
It is nice to sense that the deceased is in a ‘better place’, whatever that may mean. Which leads me to the true subject of this entry. My Grandfather died last weekend. It wasn’t a surprise exactly, but it was still shocking when I heard it.
I definitely see him with my Grandmother whom he adored, wearing a watermelon colored button down shirt and a silly bucket hat. They must be in Florida wading on the beach, or in their old kitchen with us on a lazy Sunday afternoon eating Little Caesars pizza and drinking Pepsi.
It is interesting when someone in your life dies, you can’t help but relive all the memories you have of them. These memories will forever connect you. In the end they are all we truly have, our greatest inheritance, our greatest legacy.
In the end, I think that we all want generally the same thing; to go quietly, without a fuss, to feel satisfied, complete, that our work is done, and especially to have our loved ones feel comfortable. These things are, of course, very difficult to measure, and I would guess that only a small percentage of people actually get the death they envision. Or maybe I’m wrong.
I have been directly and indirectly involved in deaths of all types; murder, negligence, trauma, respiratory arrest, suicide, miscarriage, cardiac arrest. I have taken people from their homes to hospice, caressed the foot of a dying baby, withheld intervention, performed pointless CPR, told people their mother was dead. Unfortunately, none of this has made death any easier. I wish that these experiences had given me great insight, the perfect thing to say to comfort my mourning friends, but they have not. I still do what anyone else does, console as best I can, and just plain be there, somehow knowing when to talk and when to listen.
Most deaths I believe could be safely categorized as unfair. And by unfair, I mean untimely. I have seen far too many untimely deaths. Saying that a death is a relief can seem a bit barbaric to me as it is fairly rare to experience a timely death. Although, I do believe it is possible, and I have seen it.
I’d rather feel a bit barbaric than to say that a death is ‘meant to be’ or ‘for a reason’ as this is absolute crap.
It is nice to sense that the deceased is in a ‘better place’, whatever that may mean. Which leads me to the true subject of this entry. My Grandfather died last weekend. It wasn’t a surprise exactly, but it was still shocking when I heard it.
I definitely see him with my Grandmother whom he adored, wearing a watermelon colored button down shirt and a silly bucket hat. They must be in Florida wading on the beach, or in their old kitchen with us on a lazy Sunday afternoon eating Little Caesars pizza and drinking Pepsi.
It is interesting when someone in your life dies, you can’t help but relive all the memories you have of them. These memories will forever connect you. In the end they are all we truly have, our greatest inheritance, our greatest legacy.
Comments
I'm with ya. Lost my Granddad too. He was awesome.
Cool story about him here.
See you around.
--maddog