Death is a tricky thing. The hard thing about it is the lack of understanding. This human world doesn't offer many answers when our loved ones leave us behind. We are left....standing there.....with nothing. Hopelessness, lonliness, confusion, anger.....the list goes on. If you have ever lost a loved one you know exactly what I'm talking about. I learned alot from the lives of the people that I'm going to talk about but for the purpose of this post I'm going to focus on what I learned about death.
My first encounter with death was when I was 8 or 9 years old. My dad's best friend died. Mr. Johnson was more like family, saying he was merely a friend would be an injustice. I remember being sad, and I remember standing at the funeral home outside of the main sanctuary where his casket was. I was so afraid of seeing him like that I decided early on that I wouldn't go in. That's what I thought anyways! Mrs. Johnson took mine and my sister's hand and led us down the aisle. She stopped right in front of him and placed our hands on his chest. She explained that she didn't want me to be afraid of him. That day I learned not only that I was afraid of death, but also that there wasn't enough soap in the world to wash that memory off my hand!
Fast forward to high school. A very good friend of mine committed suicide in his back yard by shooting himself in the stomach. This brought me to the desperate low of what death is about. An end to pain. From this I learned how secretive depression is. It can affect anyone in any circumstance. You may think that depression and death aren't related, but I'm here to tell you that they are. I've seen it! In an instant, the desperation takes control and BAM! The pain may be no more~ but the true suffering is in two places. The darkness exsists not only in the mind and heart of the person about to take his/her own life, in the instant before death, but also in the people that are left behind. Why didn't I see any warning signs? Why wasn't I there for him when he needed me most? Why did he feel he couldn't come to me with whatever he was battling? These are only a few of the multitude of questions that inevitably surface after the suicide of a close friend. Loss is compounded with guilt. I'm here to tell you that the weight of guilt may lessen over time, but 18 years later it is still very much present!
Fast forward 8 years. The death of my Papaw. This is the first time that someone directly related to my exsistence has died. I mean, if he'd never been born....neither would I. It may seem crazy to spell it out that way, but that's how I felt when it happened. My inner circle of family had been breached by death, and there was no going back. He was an awesome man and is greatly missed!! He gave the BEST hugs. I don't mean just any hug, I mean he was so firm and so gentle at the same time. (I made it this far into my post before tears started to fall. ugh!) My Papaw had a long and wonderful life. He died about a month after suffering a stroke. From his death I learned about emptiness and love. The emptiness came as a result of losing a part of my family. It's like the puzzle of my life, my exsistence losing pieces that can never be replaced. This is also the time in my life that I learned about true and lasting love and the pain that is left behind when someone dies. My Mama and Papaw had been married for 51 years. I knew they loved each other dearly, but it wasn't until he was very sick that I witnessed what that kind of love looked like. The night before he died the room was silent. Mama sat there stroking his hand for what seemed to be an eternity. Only getting up from her chair to kiss his forehead, she showered him with love and devotion. When I woke in the early hours of the next morning I knew he was gone. Not making a sound I just watched. She stood over him whispering into his ear and brushing his hair to one side. It was the sweetest and saddest moment happening right in front of my eyes. So intimate I felt the urge to look away. It took me several moments to realize that a part of her died that morning. She was forever changed because half of her heart went to Heaven and she was stuck here on Earth to pick up the pieces. I then realized that though we tend to worry about the suffering of the person that is dying, the suffering of those that are left to deal with that loss is much much greater.
Fast forward again about 14 years. A friend that I have known since middle school committed suicide. You may think this was a repeat of what I had already been through, but it was different. He was divorced from his wife and had two little boys. He was going through a rough time in his life and I spoke with frequently. Just as before, I had no idea he was on the brink of self destruction. You would think that going through the suicide of a friend would have taught me something, but it didn't. He was serving our country as an Army Recruiter, which I found out later is one of the jobs with the highest suicide rates in our country. The extreme pressure and stress of the job on top of his roller coaster personal life seemed too much for him at the end of the day. Now, his two sons will grow up without a father. This loss taught me selfishness. Unlike the first time I lost a friend to suicide, this time guilt was overrun by anger. How could he be so selfish to leave his sons? How sad that he could get so low that not even thinking about his children would stop him. He loved his boys so much. I still can't wrap my head around this one. Watching service members at his funeral fold the flag that laid over his casket and hand it to his sons was overwhelming. Would they ever know how kind and gentle their father was? Or would they grow up feeling abandoned because of how his life ended? This is the first time that I prayed I had access to Doc Brown's time machine. If I could only go back and ask the right question, or say the right thing at the right time...... Would that have changed his focus from his personal suffering to the welfare of his growing children? Who knows? That's the thing about death...no one knows until you get to the other side.
Fast forward 10 months. The death of my dad. This is going to be a tough one for me to get out, so please be patient with me. My dad was an amazing man. I have always said if I end up building a life with a man half as awesome as my dad I would consider myself lucky! His death taught me faith, strength and forgiveness. The quick road from his diagnosis of cancer (I refuse to capitalize this horrid word!) to death was a rapid two months. We had just celebrated his 70th birthday and he had been on Hospice for about a month. My mother and I took turns sitting with him and administering his meds when the nurses weren't there. I have come to appreciate these precious moments with him more than anything else. I would just sit there quietly, usually reading a book or writing in my journal. During his sleep his arms would open wide and he would act out what he was dreaming. I used to sit there trying to figure out his dreams. When asked who he was talking to he would say, "Jesus". Sometimes he would even name out some of his relatives that have been in Heaven for some time. There is no doubt in my mind that God used these moments to strengthen my faith. In the saddest moment of my life I was not sad. I was thankful that Jesus was preparing a place for my sweet dad in Heaven and soon he would be free. My dad knew where he was going and was not afraid so how could I be afraid? I can't even begin to explain to you how grateful I am for these precious moments with him. For someone that is as facinated by the mind as I am, this was pretty awesome for me. His mind is still a mystery to me. He never wanted anyone to fuss over him, so he didn't let much out. He'd been a two time War Veteran of the U.S. Army and was old school all the way down do his slicked back Elvis hairdo! After he passed away, I went in auto-pilot mode. Now death was teaching me to be numb and handle buisness. I handled all the details. I contacted all the right people needed to pull the funeral off. It's a little more complicated when dealing with a military funeral (you'll lol and maybe hurl a snide comment or two at this statement if you've ever had to deal with the military!!). We picked out everything from the casket and clothes down to which tie he would wear (this is a bit of a family joke b/c it was October and I picked out a silly jack-o-lantern tie that my dad would have been crackin up over). I was so busy with arrangements that it didn't occur to me that I did not cry. I thought for sure I would have my out of control sobbing moment during the funeral.. I waited for it. It never came. When the military personnel removed the flag and folded it in preparation of handing it to my mother...NOTHING..when they began Taps..NADA... when the shots were fired..ZIP. These moments usually send tears racing down my face even when I don't know the deceased soldier. I was numb. Here I am five years later and I still haven't been able to regain all feeling back. It took some time after everything was said and done for me to feel the loss enough to cry. When you walk back into a house that revolved around a person that isn't ever coming home again it's overwhelming. I don't even think I could ever accurately describe it. Everything father/daughter fight we'd ever had seemed so small now. Days I went without speaking to my parents for various reasons seemed so stupid. Forgive those you love as Christ forgave you.... End of story. There is not enough time on this side of Heaven to carry around all that stuff that means nothing in the bigger picture. Forgive today not tomorrow. Handling everything while my relatives lost it was my duty. I stepped up and took care of everything so that they could grieve. I wanted to take care of them the way my dad would have. I never knew how strong I was until this moment.
The point of this post you ask.... I'm not sure. Ha! Several people in my life have died the last few years and I was really trying to make sense of it all. I started this post almost years ago, then got away from blogging for various reasons. I came back and read this post sitting in my draft pile and decided to finish it. So much of my heart is in these paragraphs, I couldn't just walk away. A normal person probably would have deleted it and started over...being several years later and all. But if you know me at all, you'll know that I am far from normal!
My first encounter with death was when I was 8 or 9 years old. My dad's best friend died. Mr. Johnson was more like family, saying he was merely a friend would be an injustice. I remember being sad, and I remember standing at the funeral home outside of the main sanctuary where his casket was. I was so afraid of seeing him like that I decided early on that I wouldn't go in. That's what I thought anyways! Mrs. Johnson took mine and my sister's hand and led us down the aisle. She stopped right in front of him and placed our hands on his chest. She explained that she didn't want me to be afraid of him. That day I learned not only that I was afraid of death, but also that there wasn't enough soap in the world to wash that memory off my hand!
Fast forward to high school. A very good friend of mine committed suicide in his back yard by shooting himself in the stomach. This brought me to the desperate low of what death is about. An end to pain. From this I learned how secretive depression is. It can affect anyone in any circumstance. You may think that depression and death aren't related, but I'm here to tell you that they are. I've seen it! In an instant, the desperation takes control and BAM! The pain may be no more~ but the true suffering is in two places. The darkness exsists not only in the mind and heart of the person about to take his/her own life, in the instant before death, but also in the people that are left behind. Why didn't I see any warning signs? Why wasn't I there for him when he needed me most? Why did he feel he couldn't come to me with whatever he was battling? These are only a few of the multitude of questions that inevitably surface after the suicide of a close friend. Loss is compounded with guilt. I'm here to tell you that the weight of guilt may lessen over time, but 18 years later it is still very much present!
Fast forward 8 years. The death of my Papaw. This is the first time that someone directly related to my exsistence has died. I mean, if he'd never been born....neither would I. It may seem crazy to spell it out that way, but that's how I felt when it happened. My inner circle of family had been breached by death, and there was no going back. He was an awesome man and is greatly missed!! He gave the BEST hugs. I don't mean just any hug, I mean he was so firm and so gentle at the same time. (I made it this far into my post before tears started to fall. ugh!) My Papaw had a long and wonderful life. He died about a month after suffering a stroke. From his death I learned about emptiness and love. The emptiness came as a result of losing a part of my family. It's like the puzzle of my life, my exsistence losing pieces that can never be replaced. This is also the time in my life that I learned about true and lasting love and the pain that is left behind when someone dies. My Mama and Papaw had been married for 51 years. I knew they loved each other dearly, but it wasn't until he was very sick that I witnessed what that kind of love looked like. The night before he died the room was silent. Mama sat there stroking his hand for what seemed to be an eternity. Only getting up from her chair to kiss his forehead, she showered him with love and devotion. When I woke in the early hours of the next morning I knew he was gone. Not making a sound I just watched. She stood over him whispering into his ear and brushing his hair to one side. It was the sweetest and saddest moment happening right in front of my eyes. So intimate I felt the urge to look away. It took me several moments to realize that a part of her died that morning. She was forever changed because half of her heart went to Heaven and she was stuck here on Earth to pick up the pieces. I then realized that though we tend to worry about the suffering of the person that is dying, the suffering of those that are left to deal with that loss is much much greater.
Fast forward again about 14 years. A friend that I have known since middle school committed suicide. You may think this was a repeat of what I had already been through, but it was different. He was divorced from his wife and had two little boys. He was going through a rough time in his life and I spoke with frequently. Just as before, I had no idea he was on the brink of self destruction. You would think that going through the suicide of a friend would have taught me something, but it didn't. He was serving our country as an Army Recruiter, which I found out later is one of the jobs with the highest suicide rates in our country. The extreme pressure and stress of the job on top of his roller coaster personal life seemed too much for him at the end of the day. Now, his two sons will grow up without a father. This loss taught me selfishness. Unlike the first time I lost a friend to suicide, this time guilt was overrun by anger. How could he be so selfish to leave his sons? How sad that he could get so low that not even thinking about his children would stop him. He loved his boys so much. I still can't wrap my head around this one. Watching service members at his funeral fold the flag that laid over his casket and hand it to his sons was overwhelming. Would they ever know how kind and gentle their father was? Or would they grow up feeling abandoned because of how his life ended? This is the first time that I prayed I had access to Doc Brown's time machine. If I could only go back and ask the right question, or say the right thing at the right time...... Would that have changed his focus from his personal suffering to the welfare of his growing children? Who knows? That's the thing about death...no one knows until you get to the other side.
Fast forward 10 months. The death of my dad. This is going to be a tough one for me to get out, so please be patient with me. My dad was an amazing man. I have always said if I end up building a life with a man half as awesome as my dad I would consider myself lucky! His death taught me faith, strength and forgiveness. The quick road from his diagnosis of cancer (I refuse to capitalize this horrid word!) to death was a rapid two months. We had just celebrated his 70th birthday and he had been on Hospice for about a month. My mother and I took turns sitting with him and administering his meds when the nurses weren't there. I have come to appreciate these precious moments with him more than anything else. I would just sit there quietly, usually reading a book or writing in my journal. During his sleep his arms would open wide and he would act out what he was dreaming. I used to sit there trying to figure out his dreams. When asked who he was talking to he would say, "Jesus". Sometimes he would even name out some of his relatives that have been in Heaven for some time. There is no doubt in my mind that God used these moments to strengthen my faith. In the saddest moment of my life I was not sad. I was thankful that Jesus was preparing a place for my sweet dad in Heaven and soon he would be free. My dad knew where he was going and was not afraid so how could I be afraid? I can't even begin to explain to you how grateful I am for these precious moments with him. For someone that is as facinated by the mind as I am, this was pretty awesome for me. His mind is still a mystery to me. He never wanted anyone to fuss over him, so he didn't let much out. He'd been a two time War Veteran of the U.S. Army and was old school all the way down do his slicked back Elvis hairdo! After he passed away, I went in auto-pilot mode. Now death was teaching me to be numb and handle buisness. I handled all the details. I contacted all the right people needed to pull the funeral off. It's a little more complicated when dealing with a military funeral (you'll lol and maybe hurl a snide comment or two at this statement if you've ever had to deal with the military!!). We picked out everything from the casket and clothes down to which tie he would wear (this is a bit of a family joke b/c it was October and I picked out a silly jack-o-lantern tie that my dad would have been crackin up over). I was so busy with arrangements that it didn't occur to me that I did not cry. I thought for sure I would have my out of control sobbing moment during the funeral.. I waited for it. It never came. When the military personnel removed the flag and folded it in preparation of handing it to my mother...NOTHING..when they began Taps..NADA... when the shots were fired..ZIP. These moments usually send tears racing down my face even when I don't know the deceased soldier. I was numb. Here I am five years later and I still haven't been able to regain all feeling back. It took some time after everything was said and done for me to feel the loss enough to cry. When you walk back into a house that revolved around a person that isn't ever coming home again it's overwhelming. I don't even think I could ever accurately describe it. Everything father/daughter fight we'd ever had seemed so small now. Days I went without speaking to my parents for various reasons seemed so stupid. Forgive those you love as Christ forgave you.... End of story. There is not enough time on this side of Heaven to carry around all that stuff that means nothing in the bigger picture. Forgive today not tomorrow. Handling everything while my relatives lost it was my duty. I stepped up and took care of everything so that they could grieve. I wanted to take care of them the way my dad would have. I never knew how strong I was until this moment.
The point of this post you ask.... I'm not sure. Ha! Several people in my life have died the last few years and I was really trying to make sense of it all. I started this post almost years ago, then got away from blogging for various reasons. I came back and read this post sitting in my draft pile and decided to finish it. So much of my heart is in these paragraphs, I couldn't just walk away. A normal person probably would have deleted it and started over...being several years later and all. But if you know me at all, you'll know that I am far from normal!
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