Death leaves a heartache no one can heal, love leaves a memory no one can steal.
- From a headstone in Ireland
My Auntie M--my mom's second eldest sister, passed away today. :-( It just seemed too quick, since her diagnosis in September. I thought she was supposed to have at least six months, according to her doctors.
Auntie M and Uncle B were married for over 50 years. They had no children. I imposed myself on them 21 years ago, one summer, while I was trying to graduate on time by taking a couple of intensive, three-week, quick and dirty get-it-over-with summer courses at San Francisco State U. (Not my regular college). I stayed six weeks. I'm sure it was hard on them, having had no children and not being used to company.
I felt like I was under a microscope the entire time, with Auntie M reporting my every move, word, and habit to my mother! %-0 Despite our difficulties, I came to realize Auntie M was a good-hearted person. She may have been seemingly hypercritical, judgmental, and intolerant of others at times, but she really had a good heart. :-)
Auntie M makes the fourth person in the family we've lost this year. In January, it was a dear family friend. In March, my favorite uncle. In April, a young cousin (who survived a year after being diagnosed with a brain tumor). And now, Auntie M.
Can we have a break from all this sadness, which also includes loved ones on both sides of the family who've been diagnosed with cancer this year??
When I read things like: death is part of life, I do NOT disagree. But that doesn't make it any less painful for the ones who lost someone dear in their lives, by any measure.
I'm not a religious person, so I am not going to talk about God. My feelings are ambivalent about Her (!) at best. I go to God when I'm feeling desperate, like going for junk food when I have no other choice in front of me. No wonder sailors curse God all the time. Or pray fervently to God. They are sailing on rough waters that seem to have no end in sight.
(To those shocked by my reference to HER, I ask: DO YOU IN FACT KNOW that God is a HE, not a SHE?)
When I think of death, I think of an image seen too many times in film: the image of a robed, hooded person whose face you can't see, with a sickle in hand--used for digging your grave.
The last time I encountered the Grim Reaper, it was when I had my one and only car accident en route to work one morning. A slippery bridge...my car went out of control, and I ricocheted across the bridge. Good thing no one was on it except me. It was 5:45 in the morning or so. Yes, I used to work crazy hours like that for too many years!
Hubby asked later why I didn't use the emergency brakes. Well, dear, it's kind of hard to remember that when you think that this is THE END. When you suddenly see your life flash before you. When you try to remember at what point do you open your car door and escape when your car flips over into the water (which I was sure that was going to happen, but never did)?
The first time I thought I had met Mr. GR was a decade ago, after an operation to remove ovarian cysts, and I felt so utterly miserable that I almost didn't care AT ALL if I woke up again or not. I was SO completely overwhelmed with nausea. Yech!
I've escaped him twice now. I know you can't choose your time, and I've had more ailments throughout my lifetime than I can count on my fingers and toes together. My family can attest to that! But each time I get knocked down with something, I allow myself a little pity party, and then force myself to move on. Do whatever I have to do to get over this situation.
I'll be damned if I let the Grim Reaper get anywhere near me: I'll fight HIM tooth and nail as long as I have my faculties intact! (Yes, a him. How could such an unpleasant character be a woman?!)
I did have a couple close calls in the last year with a monster Mack truck and also a pick-up truck (the driver was looking right AT me! Or was it through me?) while crossing the street on foot. The Grim Reaper can show up anywhere!
I am the baby on both sides of the family. I came later in my parents' lives (for the 60's) and all my grandparents were products of the 19th century. I was very young when three of them passed away in succession within a year and a half or so. I had just barely started school--no later than the beginning of 1st grade when the last of the three died.
I didn't know them well, but I have a good photographic memory of them. AND their funerals. I think seeing a lot of death in a short period of time and being very young has had a big impact on me in ways I haven't quite figured out yet.
My mom was also having health problems at the time, but I didn't know it--or maybe I did at the time but didn't ask. And wasn't told. That's just how things were then.
I do know that I don't get freaked like some people do when others die. Maybe they haven't seen death close up before, I don't know. It's never, never easy, no matter how many times I've seen death. I had two friends who sat next to each other at my wedding banquet; both were gone the next month. And of course I fell apart at their funeral and memorial service. :-(
When someone I cared about leaves this world, it certainly makes me reflect on their life. Was it a life well-lived? How did he or she survive war and manage life's dark moments? Then I think about my life. Am I living the best way I can, according to my desires and goals first, rather than according to the expectations/conventions of society? What can I do better to achieve and surpass my own expectations? There is always room for improvement, yes indeed! ;-0
Death may be lurking in the distant future, but I intend to live my life as fully as possible, on my terms, pursuing the activities and ideas I value, standing firm for my convictions, and not being afraid of those who may vehemently disagree with me. We'll just have to agree to disagree. ;-)
Oh, one other thing: I don't like wearing black at all. It reminds me of funerals, death. Black looks great on other people. It looks cool. Sophisticated. I'll wear black trousers if need be, like for work or if it's too cold to wear a dress, but if I don't have to, I won't. Because black represents death and cold, vast emptiness to me.
I'd rather wear my favorite color, RED: a color symbolizing life...vibrancy...warmth!
Rest in peace, Auntie M. I'll never forget what a good heart you possessed and my brief time with you and Uncle B. :-)
