Goodbye

This isn’t the first time and won’t be the last time that you have had to say goodbye… to a parent, to a relative, to a sister or a brother, to a spouse, to a friend.  It happens everyday–times thousands and times millions.  Songs are sung, memories are surfaced and thoughts are poignant.  But they are still gone… for the time being.  This isn’t the first time, nor will it be the last.  I heard it say as you get older there comes an inflection point where life starts to take more than it gives.

What is it like to lose a love one, you don’t know until you do, it can be painful, it can be a relief in some cases, it can be a shock, it can be a lot of things and you are never full prepared, even when you know that it’s terminal and at some point they will go, it’s the finality and it’s painful- but with the right information and knowledge it can also be joyful for many reasons.  Death is not the end, it’s said, but a beginning.

I read a book a while back, called Earth in the Beginning.  It’s more or less a scientific approach about the earth, the creation, our creation and what is in store for us as we move from this world.  The scope of our existence could be billions of years times infinity.  We have been and will continue to be forever and I utterly do not comprehend this concept.  However our existence is but a tiny sliver in the overall picture and progression of our body and soul.  So is death an ending? Yes, in a certain sense but it’s a path to a door moving forward.  Death is and has been 100%– nothing as certain death and taxes as the saying goes.

Death is not like eating a piece of apple pie with ice cream, it’s not pleasurable… it is a part of life however and “that” is joyful—at least it should be or it should be the goal; right!

There are some specifics about loss that are heart wrenching– the loss of course; the loss of companionship, the loss of the immediate future.  The unresolved at times, the incomplete.   Do you know what it is like to clean out a closet of the clothes of your companion, or of a child?  To pack up the shells of their existence and put them in boxes- because they won’t be using them any longer– in this life.  I can tell you, that is a tough day.  What do you keep, what do you give away, what is significant, what gets thrown away?   If you are not a decisive person then that can, can be kicked down the road with no end in sight if not fully embraced at some point. 

Right after the funeral there is a lot of “rallying”, people concerned with your well-being at the time, lots of food, lots of looks and then life starts up again, for everyone.  The jagged is smoothed after a time, but it lives at home, you come home to it every day- and nobody is there to rally every day for you- you have to assume that duty eventually.  The weeks/months after are hard, as you come home and no one is there.  One stares the stark right in the face every day- it’s part of the progression.   Method, discipline, tasks are ways to keep one busy, to keep the mind from wandering to the edges of the pool and falling into the deep end.  Moving forward always… with the thought now and again of running away.  To be a boat captain in Tahiti or a Bush Pilot in Alaska.  No wonder alcohol is so popular, it numbs the pain, but it can envelop you like a dark blanket if you allow it to.  Who is the master and who will be the slave?

Death is like your little toe, it’s at your feet all the time, but you don’t think about it unless it gets smashed and then it’s painful, it scars, it heals and then that little piggy goes back to the market.  Everyone will face it personally and through proxy, many times many in their life.   I remember the first incident of dealing with it at 14 — a school friend–Chris Wallace, was accidentally shot by another friend as they were going bird hunting.  It was an accident, I don’t remember how I felt specifically but I remember the funeral and service and some of those details.  I don’t think too often about Chris but I’m sure his family does- does it crush them daily, I hope not, what do they feel about the afterlife, do they have hope? Will they think they will see him again,… again I hope so too.  Does and will 40 years dull that loss.  At quite moments do you sit back and wonder where is he at right now, or what is she doing you may ask…. I do.  I think of her every day, and still wonder if running away would work.  How do you say goodbye?