Reality Check: Untimely Death
What the fuck?
That’s about all that can be said when someone you know and care about dies an unexpected and untimely death. It wasn’t old age. It wasn’t a known (or even hidden) disease. It wasn’t a blind-sided car accident out of no where. A sudden and unexpected heart attack. Too young and too healthy for anyone to see it coming . . . didn’t smoke, healthy diet, active and vibrant life . . . . . . . . . . what the fuck? It’s not supposed to happen that way.
Vibrant and healthy one minute and dead the next. . . . What the fuck?
And we want to gather all the facts – what was he doing when it happened? Did he have any health conditions we didn’t know about? Had he been ill? Did they try to revive him? – as though by knowing the details we might make sense of it all. That’s the thing about us humans – we are always trying to make every thing make sense. It will all be okay if we can package it just right and put the right bow on it.
For me, it’s not so much about the person who passes. For them it’s done – they have moved on – and who could ask for a better way to go? I can only hope that when I go it’s that quick and unexpected. No suffering. No time for all that self-mourning, and dealing with others pre-mourning you before you go. You just check out. Easy for the passing; but so much harder for everyone else – the loved ones who are thrown into instant shock and trauma; the more distant friends and acquaintances who struggle to make sense of it and inevitably look inward and wonder if they are next. . . . The next to go, or worse – the next to be left behind.
“When I die, I hope the beer is cold and the band plays loud”
It's one of my favorit lines from a song -- I don’t know who wrote it, but I learned it from Buggs – here’s to a cold beer and good loud one for you Buggs!
That’s about all that can be said when someone you know and care about dies an unexpected and untimely death. It wasn’t old age. It wasn’t a known (or even hidden) disease. It wasn’t a blind-sided car accident out of no where. A sudden and unexpected heart attack. Too young and too healthy for anyone to see it coming . . . didn’t smoke, healthy diet, active and vibrant life . . . . . . . . . . what the fuck? It’s not supposed to happen that way.
Vibrant and healthy one minute and dead the next. . . . What the fuck?
And we want to gather all the facts – what was he doing when it happened? Did he have any health conditions we didn’t know about? Had he been ill? Did they try to revive him? – as though by knowing the details we might make sense of it all. That’s the thing about us humans – we are always trying to make every thing make sense. It will all be okay if we can package it just right and put the right bow on it.
For me, it’s not so much about the person who passes. For them it’s done – they have moved on – and who could ask for a better way to go? I can only hope that when I go it’s that quick and unexpected. No suffering. No time for all that self-mourning, and dealing with others pre-mourning you before you go. You just check out. Easy for the passing; but so much harder for everyone else – the loved ones who are thrown into instant shock and trauma; the more distant friends and acquaintances who struggle to make sense of it and inevitably look inward and wonder if they are next. . . . The next to go, or worse – the next to be left behind.
“When I die, I hope the beer is cold and the band plays loud”
It's one of my favorit lines from a song -- I don’t know who wrote it, but I learned it from Buggs – here’s to a cold beer and good loud one for you Buggs!
posted by 10-8-ious | 9:18 PM
|
1 comments
