The Colour of Mourning

 

I have never experienced death of someone close to me, other than pets.  My grandmother, but she was just an occasional visitor in my life, not an influence or a confidant; we lived on opposite coasts.  Knock wood, I have not lost a parent, a child, or significant other in my life.  To those that have I can only imagine what you feel.  Unlike abortion, where I have not the emotional reference of a mother to comment on the subject, unfortunately death affects us all, sooner or later, either ours or someone else's, and emotionally we'll all have to deal with it.

 

It is one emotion I think I have kept at arm's length by never getting too close to people.  I have friends, but even with the closest of these there is no weekend football or beer drenched camping trips, no fishing, and certainly no confidences.  I fear their loss as much as I fear my own vulnerability.  I think this would be my ex-wife's fault.  I vowed to never leave myself vulnerable to that kind of pain again.  So, what does this leave?

 

It leaves you standing in a field of aromatic wild flowers, the sound of a creek babbling over rocks at the tree line, the warmth of the sun on your face, deer crossing downhill with fawn prancing through the tall grass, and you have no one to share it with.  You are blessed with moments of pain and confusion when you need that friendly shoulder to lean on as you stumble and try not to fall off the emotional cliff because no one is there with you.  What doesn't kill you, makes you stronger?  Perhaps, but it takes an emotional toll that the best of us find easier to bury deep down in a well worn footlocker, hidden in some dusty, forgotten, back room in one's mind.  It is this burial  I fear when I finally have to confront the death of someone dear.

 

With grandma, she died when I was a young man.  I begged God to give her more time so I could know her better, but that wasn't in the grand plan.  She was very close to her God and I think she knew she was needed elsewhere.  When my daughter's cousin Jimmy died, I had developed a better understanding of my own views on God.  Jimmy died in high school, a passenger in a car crash, no good reason for him to die.  One must hope the good die young because they are needed elsewhere, and the older folks, like my grandma, are there to guide them.

 

Do you mourn the dead, or celebrate their life?  Do you celebrate their moving on to the next level of existence?  Do you mourn the loss as you would a cherished friend that moves across country, wishing them a bon voyage, as it were.  For some reason I just know this will crush me, no matter how strong I think I'll be, or how much reason for the death I try to put behind it.

 

As humans I think we come to rely on those around us for moral, physical, and emotional support.  We know that we can weather life alone,  it's just easier with others around us to lean on.  When they finally pass on it's like losing a valued member of the office staff, knowing you now have to take on all the responsibilities, or make all the tough calls by yourself.  I think this is why it is easier to deal with loss as you get older and more self-sufficient.  There is no more of that selfish, "why did you leave me, what am I supposed to do now, how will I make it without you," stuff that you blubber as a younger person.  It morphs into, "have a nice trip, you will be sorely missed."

 

Knowing how I will probably deal with death of loved ones helps me know how I want to be launched off the pad into that great unknown.  I want those around me to eat, drink, and be merry.  Don't wear black, no armbands, no teary eyed funeral.  I want a cheap "burn and toss" down by the ocean. Deal with my passing as a celebration of life, the start of a new journey, that next great adventure!  Party hearty and then strike up the bag pipes while you scatter my ashes to the winds along my new path.

 

In confronting my fears, I will try to color death differently when facing it, although I know it will be hard.  A celebration will make it easier, and will probably make the deceased happier in the knowledge that I will be able to move along with fond memories, no regrets, and the best of hopes for them.  I also think I need to start letting more people breach my castle walls and start taking more emotional risks.  As I get older I am finding the need for more people in my life.  The few that I have let in know that my worst fear is to die alone, yet, I would be the one to make this fear come to fruition.

 

The color purple is not that of mourning.  Mourning is the color of rainbows after a dark, violent storm when the sun breaks from behind the clouds.  When the damage is done, the hurricane has passed; crying over what is left, is of no help.  Pick yourself up out of the doldrums and revel in the new day, and the glory of life, remembering fondly those that have moved on.

 

I think this is what God would want of us.

"It is the will of God and Nature that these mortal bodies be laid aside, when the soul is to enter real life; 'tis rather an embrio state, a preparation for living; a man is not completely born until he is dead: Why then should we grieve that a new child is born among the immortals?"

-- Benjamin Franklin, 1756