Monday, May 13, 2019

On Death and Dying

On Death and Dying
Image from: http://wisdomquotes.com/
I would love to say that this past week outshone the week before that what with cars breaking down and black licorice taffy, but sadly, that isn't the case. The reality is that it's been such a rollercoaster that a part of me is screaming, "Please just let me off. I can't do this anymore."

I don't tell you that to scare you, but to be real with myself and with anyone who reads this. It's been a really rough week...and as the mechanic told me last Monday, "But, honey, it's only Monday."

Let's backtrack just a little bit. I want to tell you about my friend, Laura. Just over a week ago, I got a call from one of the few people on this planet that I trust with my everything. It sounds a bit odd to say that since before this call, I hadn't heard his voice in probably five years, but it's true. Anyway, it wasn't a happy call...he called to tell me that Laura had died. In that moment, I think I went numb and into some sort of denial. It wasn't possible. She was 53. She was this amazing, incredible woman who was loved by so many. Writing this now, almost two weeks later, the tears are finally there and I can't stop them.

Going to her funeral was only reliant on one thing..if the friend mentioned above would let me stay at his place. Once that was set, I move heaven and earth to get there. Of course, my car broke down on the way and there was a bit of drama trying to get it fixed/get a rental car, but I got there. The funeral, as far as funerals go, was lovely. The room was packed and I couldn't help but look around and wonder if anyone would come to mine if I died. Compared to this woman, I've done nothing with my life. What would they have to talk about in my death?

I came back home just two days ...not even two days really...after getting there. I left with mixed feelings: sadness over Laura, fear that it'd be another six years until I was back "home" again, a desire to prove myself to the world, and a need to see my children. Since then, I've pushed and pushed trying to be even a quarter of the woman she was. I've taken the youngest to rehearsal, attended his senior breakfast, took both boys for one last immunization, had lunch with an author friend who amazes me constantly with his skills and talents, worked on projects for clients...do you all see where this is heading?

At no point have I taken a moment to mourn or grieve or even breathe. Tonight though, I can't stop the tears. I can't stop the sobs that wrack my body. It's good that I'm alone because if I were with someone else, I'd try hard to be strong for them. I'd shove it all down. I wouldn't be able to say what I'm about to put here...

I feel guilty for being alive. The world needs Lauras. They need those amazing hearts matched with strength and determination. The outpouring of love and the number of people in that room showed that. I live in fear that when I die I will die forgotten. There will be nobody to even put together a funeral, let alone people who will travel from all over to share their stories of me or to help comfort those who grieve.

I want this post to have a happy ending. After all, that's what I do, right? I write these posts about my struggles but I always end them with some little ray of hope, some thought that keeps me going. Tonight, I don't have one of those. All I can think is...why me? Why am I still here but she isn't? The world needs Lauras.


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