No matter how real death should be for all of us,
it’s a subject we do not talk about often – if at all. Perhaps it’s because we
don’t want to awake an eerie omen or create a bad jinx, as it could possibly bring
an earlier end to our own lives – so why push the final envelope – at all? Instead
we hide behind a shield of invisibility, hoping that infinity is the true reality
- not death. And that’s all fine, but the part I have yet to fully accept, is
that death is still so bloody final.
I was 8 years old when our teacher read a message
from classmate Peter Arnoldi’s mother. Peter had been hit and killed by a car.
I can’t remember any emotions from that day, as lack of life experience
reigned; but reading the message today tears me up, as I do vaguely remember
Peter; for one thing, he was so bloody young, so why die?
My first emotionally real-life ‘death-encounter’
involved my grandfather; a man I adored from I was born. My father, his wife and
I were sitting in the first row at the funeral with this casket thing right in
front of us; I was 17. There was standing-room only for this great man’s final
farewell. When all was said and done, the casket was slowly rolled into a
flaming inferno for his cremation – right there, for all to see. That image
literally burned itself into my memory-bank; I still shiver thinking about it.
During planning a class-reunion (25 years) some
million years ago, classmate Ernst worked for the Danish police and was utterly
resourceful finding 26 of the 31 first-graders from 1953. It was nice ‘working’
with Ernst, reviving an old friendship. I was in California and he was in
Denmark; snail-mail, faxes and phone-calls.
Then I didn’t hear from Ernst, so I called him and
was told by his wife, that he had suddenly died. But how could that be? He was
the same age as I – so that would be impossible… I mean, I just talked with
him…
As logical and realistic-minded I think I am, I’m
still utterly puzzled that I have not been able to fathom the, at times (always?)
harsh realities of death – my own included. Best pal Michael died at 68; lovely
family member Lasse died at 62. John Lennon at 40; George Harrison at 58; Steve
Jobs and Robin Williams, etc. All before their ‘expected’ time; what the heck
is going on?
My father died in 2000 at 87 and my mother died last
August at 95. So we ‘comfort’ ourselves by attaching ‘lived full lives’ to
their passing. I know my mother was tired of living, so she finally found her
peace. But I’m not so sure about my father. He died from cancer, but the last
couple of times we visited him in Denmark, he was as life-energetic as ever; and
a few months later he was very dead – still is.
My mother’s husband was 64 when he succumbed to
severe illness – just as he had decided to retire. He wanted to say goodbye to
friends and family, asking them to the hospital – and they all came. Then he
asked for the proverbial plug to be pulled – his choice. Come on, at 64?
I find that I write this with an arrogant attitude,
with a matter-of-fact ignorance and some form of held-back anger. I’m sure it’s
based on anxieties, obliviousness, my possible fears and insecurities about
death. No, I’m not worried about my own death being jinxed by actually bringing
this subject to the surface, but it’s one of these very realistic issues that I
find I must get to know, get to understand and then (finally) be able to live
with (at least before I die (ha ha)).
But one thing I clearly realize from the above: We
are all influenced by so many people on our way through life, and in most cases
more so than we realize (or admit to?) The true fact is that death will always
be the ultimate reminder of how precious life is – let’s never forget that.
Praising and appreciating loved ones, friends and family after they die, is all
fine and lovely, but too often it leaves us with: ‘oh, I should have, I could have… why the heck didn’t I – and now it’s
too late’? We must remember, that praising, appreciating, not taking
anybody for granted, loving, caring and laughing, are all a lot more effective with people when they are alive, as the morbid damper on this kind of interaction is always death
– duh...
We can all do better in this department – so why not
start today – okay? Make those calls and send that E-Mail, implement more hugging
and kissing, show love and respect more freely. Do it now – don’t regret later that you didn’t. Tell them how important
they are in your life. And do it often; it doesn’t hurt at all. Spreading happiness
is not bad – it makes all of us feel better and appreciated, much more alive.
I’m hitting 70 in 2016 (June 18, if you absolutely feel
like sending me some cash). I do, of course consider my own death, and I admit,
more often than I should. Don’t get me wrong, I’m alive, utterly happy and very
healthy. I enjoy life as a very fortunate individual; I cannot ask or wish for
anything else than what I have today, stuff I do and the fantastic friends and lovely
family I’m in the middle of; all this together with my very best friend ever
(my wife), two lovely sons and a fabulous daughter-in-law.
My everyday retirement-life is full of stuff that
needs to be done to function in a stress-free zone, but more so full of stuff
that I like to do. At times it’s hectic, very hectic; at times I do feel
pressures, but I simply handle it piece by piece and get it done. I am an avid
photographer (the amateur kind); I write a lot of stuff, including this blog; I
read for fun and especially read to learn, which is even more fun – a lot; I
walk the dog twice daily (or she walks me), I exercise, eat fairly well and
find happiness in a lot of stuff around me. Life is good, very good – so
thoughts of my death should be tabled for another day – way out in the future;
don’t you think? But thoughts about my ‘passing on’ do pop up – and I don’t
like it when it does…
From I was a teenager I theorized that I would
outlive my last parent’s death by at least 5 years. So if this holds water I
should hit at least 100. Triggered by that thought, I then calculate how many
years I have left; yes, utterly pathetic - really. But it does help underscore
my life as is and what’s really important, because then I concentrate on the quality
of my life even more so, and that’s not bad.
Reality is that my wife and I do make some
‘considerations’ with the time left; I’m 10 years above in age, by the way. No,
it’s not casket & urn-shopping (yes I will be cremated – Yuk, just the
thought) or where the ashes will be spread, or any other morbid (good term)
stuff. It’s more the practical realization of age overall and therefore dealing
with related issues.
We have been traveling a lot in our lives before and
together – very fortunate. We like traveling, so the last few years our travel-planning
has been brought forward a bit (actually a lot). The reality is that some of
these places will, for me at least be ‘a last time visit’. Yes, it’s bloody gloomy
when we look at it that way, but it is a stark reality, which we have to learn
to accept, no matter how much we hate to admit it.
The whole death-thing is just hanging out there,
staring at me with those probing eyes, with me going: ‘huh, what?’ The utter
fact for me is, that I’m not really afraid of dying, but I’m more so afraid of
not living – a huge difference.
Life is great and I find that I appreciate it more
and more – if that is even possible. I embrace my surroundings 24/7 with its
many people and stuff to do. Whatever age you are, please enjoy life and please
appreciate the living in your life before they die – memories are lovely, but you can’t hug memories
and tell them how much they mean to you, because – that would be weird (and
sad), huh?
For me, these days death is more so a sporadic
thought. I have accepted that the end will eventually come, if I want it to or
not. So instead, I increased the enjoyment of living years ago, and that
doesn’t really leave a lot of time to speculate and contemplate the conclusion of
it all; so I stay happy. But no matter what, to me death is still so bloody
final, Yuk…
Now, go make it all a really great life – please…
