Death Changes Everything

I look back upon other deaths in my life and see them differently. My father didn't want any fuss to be made, no viewing, no ceremony. He just wanted to be cremated, and be done with it.

Gennie and James Deane age 85 and 90

Both my parents had expressed this as their choice for years. Yet, when Dad died, it was immediately obvious that, though we would respect the wish for cremation, we would still go through the nice dressed up appearance, the new tie to go with Dad's favorite suit, the make up for his face to look healthy and happy.

Though, I thought that smile was probably broader than any my father had ever made, it was still better in appearance than what it might have been. There was no fancy, expensive coffin, but a temporary one. I don't recall what it was called, they had a special name for it. Sturdy, yet disposable, something that would burn with him, for little expense. Perhaps some sort of cardboard?

We went against Dad's wishes for the sake of our Mom's comfort. Her grief was so intense, we did this to help give her some closure, to help her face the fact that his physical presence would not continue to be with her, to help her make that transition into widowhood as best as possible. It gave her the chance to be dressed up for him, for her to say goodbye. After all, he died when she was asleep. When we woke her, she tried to revive him. Perhaps she thought she might have prevented his death if she had not been sleeping. We like to think that going through with a ceremony, a priest, a church as she was brought up with, as was familiar to her, would help to bring some sort of comfort to her.

Honoring Grief

We live in a society that fears death, and we're raised up to believe death is undesirable... "bad".

Imagine what it would be like to have grown up in a society that didn't fear death! There are such people who celebrate with joy. They honor the person who died. 

Since we've been brainwashed and have this ingrained negative viewpoint and emotions regarding death, choosing to change will be challenging, but it can be done. We can still grieve the loss of the one we love simply because we miss them.

My personal viewpoint is: 
Live life as though you will die tomorrow and all the bullshit falls away. 
You will know who and what's really meaningful to you. 
In the meantime, live life to the fullest extent of your being. 
Take the good things and be glad. 
Take the troublesome as challenges to overcome and grow character. 
Love yourself and extend that love to others who are able to accept it.
Honor your friends by remembering the good times with them.

Dream of Mom and Dad

Dream of Mom and Dad
Feel so sad
Grief
Heavy grief

I get a message
from beyond
"see Brother Frank"
"talk to Brother Frank"

He can tell you
what you need to know.
The message is strong
it's fervent, impressing me.

I  don't want to
see Brother Frank.
I want Mom
I want Dad
I dont need preachers

Then the text
messages begin.
Messages from Mom?
Could they be from Dad?

All of them religious
one after another
messages from the dead?
or a hoax?

~~~~~~~~~~~
Photo is of my parents taken in the 1980's at Canyon Country California
They are no longer with us.
This month Mom would have celebrated her 92nd birthday.

Mystery

 I look at the mess outside my back door the birds have made of the sunflower seed shells.  I'm responsible for some of that mess. I've been feeding them. But the possum has contributed too, trying to get to the bird seed, tipping over pots and stools and other garden paraphernalia. Not to mention his...  poop. Possum's poop a lot, and not just in one place but everywhere they go!

I'm sad. This mess is sad. It's a sorry excuse for a memorial ceremony location. I should clean it up.

Last year at this time, I was beside myself in shock. I had all the symptoms, rapid pulse, cold skin, perspiration, tightness in the chest, and an overwhelming sense of horror.

Who knew that loving someone so much for twenty years could bring upon such intensity?

I couldn't comprehend the possibility that I would remain sane. I sure didn't feel sane. That first six months was the most difficult. I went to bed at night and all I could think about was her. Not the good times we had. No. All I could think about was her death, and the things that led up to it.  I awoke in the same thought pattern day after day, night after night. I couldn't stop myself.

As clear as the moment it happened, I see her now, slipping out the door as I reach for the mail. She's plodding across the yard where her favorite plant grows... has been growing for years. Due to my recent surgery, I'm hobbling behind her. I liked to watch as she pads around her cat mint, and sniffs selectively until she finds that one perfectly formed leaf for her enjoyment. She nibbles. She lingers, waiting for my approach.

If only she hadn't.

I wasn't fast enough. The neighbor had let her dog out. He headed toward my house. I saw it coming. I tried, but couldn't run. There was no way I could have stopped it. It was instantaneous.

I heard a blood curdling scream as the dog's body slammed my little eight pound girl. It was me who screamed, but it sounded like it came from outside myself, as if the whole neighborhood had screamed. I saw her hurled away across the sidewalk.

It happened so fast.

I kept obsessively going over that in my mind, trying to re-capture that moment. It seemed she simply disappeared. Certainly she was suddenly not there.

My scream had startled the dog and his owner so much that everything shifted. For a moment the dog stood stock still and did not give her chase, but ran away. The neighbor and I had harsh words.

Since the door was still open, Keli made her way back inside before I got there. I examined her. No blood. She seemed herself. She seemed okay sitting there on her rocking chair, as usual.

It took two weeks as her life began to fade. I took her to the Vet, not relating the episode with the dog to her demise, because she was so old. It was the Vet who wrote in her chart about a mass in her adomen, the lack of bowel sounds. He asked if she'd been injured. Then, it all clicked.

It was too late to save her, he said. I could pay a thousand dollars and they would do everything they could, but he didn't feel there would be much hope at her advanced age, the fact she was dehydrated, etc. etc. I needed to let her go.

NEVER, NEVER, NEVER take your very sick pet to the vet without having a friend go with you!!! Driving home is extremely dangerous, for other drivers, as well as yourself. Several times, I had to pull over just to breathe. I was convinced I would pass out, but not within my senses enough to just stop driving entirely. Very dangerous.

Every night before I slept I re-lived the vet office visit, her looking into my eyes with such clarity that last moment. Every morning the same thing. I thought I would die from the grief.

So here I am a year later, and her resting place beside the back door is a mess with seed hulls and possum poop. Naturally, I got busy and started cleaning. I decided to go out to her favorite plant, her cat mint, dig it up and transplant it. Put it beside her. It gets such beautiful blue flowers on it.

Much to my surprise, I can't even call it surprise.

Just imagine ..... I find the location of Keli's cat mint and discover instead, a four foot circle of dead plant. All the living flowers and grasses surround that circle. But, nothing invades the space that once was the living plant my cat loved.

Saying Good-Bye

If we are traditional, there are fixed ideas we have about death where I live, except perhaps with cremation. We have the body made up so that the deceased looks healthy and happy, as much as possible. We have a viewing where friends and family come and share time with the deceased to say goodbye. We give eulogies, share stories of his or her life, how our lives were affected by this person.

Recently, I've realized that all the ritual we have regarding death of our loved ones is very much to honor them. It also helps us with our grief since it gives us comfort in our bereavement. The idea in our society that death is negative derives from the fact that we will miss that person who died, that there is an empty space in our heart that needs to be filled with something else to replace the fact that he or she will not return.

If one is not present when the death occurs, there is a sense of not having had the opportunity to say goodbye, therefore the ritual of viewing the body. Dressing our loved one in favorite clothing, and physical features made to look healthy and happy can provide a sense of completion. We may tell ourselves, the loved one is no longer inhabiting the body, but still, we want to revere the receptacle which housed the soul we will miss so much.

In our grief, thinking rationally may not be a high priority, and spending money on a satin lined coffin, for example, has everything to do with how much we wish to provide comfort.

Though we might understand that the body, nor the being that once inhabited it, will physically benefit from lying on a cushioned bed surrounded with lovely pleated fabric, we have the need for ourselves to symbolically swaddle the one we loved as we may have in life.

Have you ever offered a friend your coat when they were cold? Shared a blanket? Done something, anything, to help the loved one be more comfortable? Seems to me this is our one last attempt to do the same thing when we say goodbye.

First Anniversary

I look at the mess winter has created outside my back door. I look at the mess the birds have made with all the sunflower seed shells. I'm responsible for some of that mess. I've been feeding them. The possum has contributed, too; trying to get to the bird seed, tipping over pots and stools and other garden paraphernalia. Not to mention his...  poop! Opossum's poop a lot, and not just in one place. It's everywhere!

I'm sad. This mess is sad. It's a sorry excuse for a memorial park. A memorial plot, I mean. There's no honor here.

Last year at this time, I was beside myself in shock. I had all the symptoms, rapid pulse, cold skin, perspiration, tightness in the chest, and an overwhelming sense of horror. Who knew that loving someone so much for twenty years could bring upon such intensity?

I couldn't comprehend the possibility that I would remain sane. I sure didn't feel sane. That first six months was the most difficult. I went to bed at night and all I could think about was her. Not the good times we had. No. All I could think about was her death, and the things that led up to it.  I awoke in the same thought pattern. I couldn't stop myself.

As clear as the moment it happened, I see her now, heading out the door as I reach for the mail, She's plodding across the yard to the far corner where her favorite plant grows. I head out behind her, hobbling along due to my recent surgery. I like to be with her, watching, as she pads around her plant, and sniffs selectively. Though I worry, she avoids the bumble bees like an expert and finds that one perfectly formed leaf for her enjoyment. She nibbles. I'll catch up to her soon. I can break off a stem, carry her back inside.

This was not catnip. Though Keli enjoyed catnip, she also had a penchant for a closely related plant most of us call cat mint. She preferred it over regular catnip. She had passed up the big patch of catnip by the door in order to get to her special plant.

If only she hadn't.

I wasn't fast enough. The neighbor had let her dogs out and headed toward my house. It was almost like I saw it coming. I couldn't run. There was no way I could have stopped it.

It was instantaneous.


I heard a blood curdling scream as the dog's body slammed my little eight pound girl. It was me who screamed but it sounded like it came from outside myself, as if the whole neighborhood had screamed. I can't say I saw her hurled away. It happened so fast. Have I blocked it?

I kept going over that in my mind, trying to capture that moment. Was she under her own power in escaping? Certainly she was suddenly not there, and my scream had startled the dog and his owner, so much that everything  shifted. The dog stood stock still and did not give chase, but ran away. The neighbor and I had harsh words.

Since the door was still open, Keli had made her way back inside before I got there. I examined her. No blood. She seemed herself. She seemed okay sitting there on her rocking chair, as usual.

It took two weeks as her life began to fade. I took her to the Vet, not relating the episode with the dog to her demise. It was the Vet who wrote in her chart about a mass in her abdomen, the lack of bowel sounds. He asked if she'd been injured. Then, it all clicked. It was too late to save her, he said. I could pay a thousand dollars and they would do everything they could, but he didn't feel there would be much hope at her advanced age, the fact she was dehydrated, etc. etc. I needed to let her go. He was very kind. Seemed like he loved her as much as I.

NEVER, NEVER, NEVER take your very sick pet to the vet without having a friend go with you!!! Driving home is extremely dangerous, for other drivers, as well as yourself. Several times, I had to pull over just to breathe. I was convinced I would pass out, but not within my senses enough to just stop driving entirely. Very dangerous.

Every night before I slept I re-lived the vet office visit, her looking into my eyes with such clarity that last moment. Every morning the same thing. I thought I would die from the grief. I wished I would. I felt insane.

So here I was a year later, and her resting place beside the back door was... a mess. Naturally, I got busy and started cleaning.

I decided to go out to her favorite plant, her cat mint, dig it up, transplant it, put it beside her. It gets such beautiful blue flowers on it. The neighborhood cats wont disturb it. She was the only one who ever munched on it.

Much to my surprise, I can't even call it surprise, just imagine ..... well, you explain it.

I found the location of Keli's cat mint and discover instead, a four foot circle of dead plant. All the spring flowers and grasses surround that circle. But, nothing invades the space that once was the living plant my cat loved.

Can you explain it? How very, very odd.

A Change of Mind

A dear friend died recently and it hit me right between the eyes that my attitude about our customs surrounding death might be necessary. I realized I needed to re-think my attitude about the whole concept of how we handle death in our culture. Because of the long distance between us, I was unable to attend any get together with others regarding the death of my friend. I felt alone in my grief.

I'm sure that my bereft loneliness could have increased, except for the fact that the internet connected many of us who loved this person. We were able to share our bereavement in a social network. I saw wonderful comments about my friend, I learned how others experienced him in their lives. I saw another side of him, and I smiled. I watched a slide show presented by his dearest loved one, pictures I had never seen before. Pictures that showed my friend in happy times with his friends, including me, and in beautiful scenery he had once enjoyed.

I ranted not too long ago about death and funerals, about how some cultures celebrate death, how our culture treats it differently: death is a sad, bad thing, to be avoided, to be made more acceptable by making things pretty. I ranted that I wanted my death to be celebrated, that I didn't want flowers and you better give me flowers now, not when I'm dead.

Because of the death of this dear friend so close to the timing of my rant, I have had a revelation which has given me a different opinion, nearly a full turn around on the subject.

It doesn't seem so unacceptable to me anymore. I can now truly say, with all my heart, to the family and others who loved my friend, "I'm sorry for your loss. Please accept my condolences."

Rest in Peace, my dear friend. I shall miss you immensely, though I believe from the depths of me you are just a whisper away.