Death in Life

My post content

I’ve been blessed with life in my life. Life in the trees and plants that surround me on a regular basis. Life in the attitudes and love that come from my parents, brother and friends. Life put into the bricks laid under my feet and architecture and structures built around me. Life in me, in my body, in its ability to move, dance, sit in comfort, lay, sleep in peace, think clearly, love. Life has surrounded me my whole life and is something I am so utterly blessed to be surrounded by. It’s good fortune really and nothing more. And my job with this blessing in this life to appreciate and spread that life to others.

That doesn’t mean death doesn’t come. Death comes in all sorts of ways. It comes in the literal sense and metaphorical. It comes when autumn comes to an end and that first winter frost spreads over the grass on an early November morning. It comes when a friendship fades a little farther apart and that relationship that was once there has changed ever so slightly. It most certainly comes when you lose a loved one. That is death in its most literal form. And death hits everyone and every time a little differently. It doesn’t matter how many times you may have experienced it in the past, each time it has its lasting effect that transforms you just a little bit (or a lot). It makes you a little wiser, a little more tired, a little stronger, a little more lonely.

I’ve been blessed with life in my life. I’ve been blessed knowing little grief or at least the grief that we read and hear about from others. My experiences with death are manageable, they have done minimal damage. When I look back on my experiences with death in life they have been transformative, they all have played integral roles in where I am here in life today. Physically and metaphorically. They teach me lessons, Salvo I decide to learn from them.

One of the beauties of death is the way in which it brings people together. It connects family and friends in a very intimate way that doesn’t take much time or understanding. I’m not exactly sure what it is. It’s a shared grief, it’s a common understanding, it’s a reminder that life is short. It gives motivation to love. To live. That is after the unbearable pain subsides.

And that’s the other thing about death. It's unexpected. You can’t determine it’s arrival. Sometimes there are signs, little clues that point towards an unavoidable fate. Sometimes it’s something we choose ourselves whether we realize it’s what we are choosing or not. It can be an accident, it can be a misunderstanding, it can be self sabotage or immaturity or unhappiness or it can just be nothing at all. That’s part of its pain but probably better that way. That way we can live. And if there is one thing death always is a reminder of is that this is a life we need to live.