The Death Experience

The one thing we all have in common is the experience of death. None of us can escape its clutches. Animals, plants, people. We all follow the process of being born, following a life cycle, and then die. Why? Well, I wish I had all the answers, but I do not. What I do know is we are all on life's conveyor belt for what seems to be a pre-determined end. Some get close, and "cheat death", others have out of body experiences and come back. Some actually die, and return and go on to live longer lives. No matter how you look at it, we eventually transition from this realm into another.

I heard it said that the reason we take death so hard is because we are eternal beings. Within us is the power to live forever. Now, I can be a little cerebral sometimes in my thoughts and I have often wondered why death affects us the way it does? We do everything we can trying to extend our lives. Diet, exercise, surgeries, all to hopefully extend our shelf life in some way. Is it really for a better quality of life or are we hoping to evade death altogether? I just recently lost a close family member. I knew that they were going to die, yet I was stunned, and blown away and I could not understand why.

For many years, I have been wondering many things about death and dying. When my paternal grandmother passed some 21 years ago, I remember her saying to me, " I am tired," At 28 years old I knew she was not talking about needing a nap, or that she needed to go to simply go to sleep for a while. She was life tired. She had pancreatic cancer and lived for about 2 months from diagnosis to demise. However, I am not convinced it was the disease that led her to eventual death. It may have aided in her, but I do not believe it was the main culprit. Momma, as I called her, had other things that happened around her which caused her to be "tired". The cancer was the result of the other things. I knew she was going to die, and I struggled inside. How was I privy to such information? How could I be such a pessimist? The entire family was believing for another outcome. What was wrong with me? The next set of events is where my questions began to develop. She never mentioned that she knew she was going to die, but we talked around the subject. I said things to her like, “I want you to know how much you mean to me.” I was fortunate enough to spend a weekend with her before she passed, and we talked until the sun came up. It was beautiful. However, it left me with more questions than answers. All the family surrounded her with heartfelt, gut wrenching prayers of faith that she would walk away unscathed. When she died, I remember feeling so hollow inside, like it still did not make sense. I mean I knew it was going to happen, but when it did, everything in me acted as if it were surprised. I did not understand it at all.

My maternal grandfather's transition was a little different. He had always been open to me about the things of the divine. When my grandmother (maternal) died a couple of months earlier, he seemed to concede to his own death timetable rather quickly. She died in April and he in June of the same year. We talked briefly before he (diagnosed with stage 4 colon cancer) met his timeline. I asked him if he was ready to die? He said, "Well, yeah I guess so, there isn't much more for me to do here now with grandma gone." How did he know that? Although I was not ready for him to go, he had already made up in his mind it was time. How could he and my family members before him make what seemed to be such a drastic choice? Did he look at all the factors involved? Did he even consider the ones he was leaving behind? What made him decide to go?

What if we have it all wrong? What if death is a pleasant transition into another realm? What if what we fear we should embrace? I am not sure which way to take it, all I know is that it is our certainty.

The main question that keeps repeating itself if why? Why do we as human beings put up such a fight when death is inevitable? I know that there are many who have "faced death" and some have "died" and returned. Again, my question is why? What is it about the afterlife that makes us try to avoid it at all cost? Only to,, at some point give in and let go. Death, at least in this world as we know it, wins every time. It is not a matter of if, but when.

Considering the most recent death to hit my family, I wondered why my pain stricken family member did not call it quits 6 months ago when she found out her cancer was terminal? As much as it pains me to recall our conversations, she had come close to death but said that it "wasn't time". Why, as she agonized over the coming months, treatment after treatment, hope after hope, memory after memory, it happened. As if death had decided to take a seat in the corner intensely waiting for this moment to escort by beloved cousin away.

When it happened, the pain was as if somewhere in my mind I was hoping it would not, but I knew it would if that makes any sense. Why wasn’t I prepared? Why all the additional tears and pain as if I did not know this was the route she and my paternal grandmother would take? I do not get it, I knew it and she knew it, yet again we said nothing. We talked about hope, and healing, and plans, knowing all along it was futile talk.

I am not sure why we approach death the way we do when other animals, in passing on, just lay down and die. No fretting, trying to regain some form of their youthful self. They seem to just accept it and give in to it almost effortlessly. We do everything we can to keep it from coming to our door, but it is inevitable. Each one of us will for certain face death, ready or not.

I wish I had all the answers to the how and whys, but I too still ponder the questions in my own mind. Why is this the only route for us to take? Why can’t it be avoided? At what point do we live forever? Or do we? Will we see our loved ones again like stories told in the Bible or by our ancestors?

There is something I discovered as time has passed. The pain never leaves. You find ways to try and live through it and around it. When I think about my loved ones, I still cry. I wish they were around to meet great-grandkids, boyfriends and girlfriends. To see graduations, proms, marriages, to laugh, to share. Even if my paternal grandmother were alive today, her meeting deaths appointment in her nineties still would have been difficult to handle. If my cousin had died at 70 instead of 50, the pain would be no less. So, what do we do when faced with our own death timetable? I hope that I can embrace mine gracefully and transition in peace.