In the last few days I have come face to face with the thing from which we constantly are running- death. In my experience, death is the thing you don't talk about, it's the thing that is scary and non-existent until it ironically comes into being only when we lose someone close to us. And so I wait for it to strike as my grandmother lays in her hospital bed. No matter how old you are or whom it has come to claim, it is still terrifying. It doesn't matter if you think you're prepared, if you saw it coming, if you knew it was the end, because you're never actually ready. I think the worst thing is not knowing what to do- whether to visit or to wait for the phone call you know will surely come. Death puts us all in a sort of limbo, another world of being, of waiting, of scarcely living.
This experience reminds me of the losses of others. The second someone is in the position of loss, the memories flood in about your own set of losses. Everyone has struggled with the death of a loved one, a friend, or maybe even a stranger. It connects us to everyone else yet it separates us. I guess living in the wake of another's death leaves us in a purgatory on earth. New days spent without the knowledge that our loved one is still within reach, can still be contacted. I pray that my grandmother wakes up, I pray for a miraculous recovery. Isn't that what everyone wishes? I think the reality is harder to face than the hope for something better. My heart goes out to those who have lost and those who believe they might be in the presence of loss shortly. It is not a pleasant waiting room in which to sit, but you should know you're not alone.
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