A Matter of Death... and Life

I don't really know how to make sense of all that has happened this week. It feels like sadness is everywhere. A member of Stan's family committed suicide... and nothing anyone can say or do will bring him back. I saw so many Facebook postings this week from dear friends who have lost someone close to them, or are having "the worst week of their lives". A colleague was called away from work because one of his family members is dying. It seems that every once in a while, bad news comes in tumbles. Giant heaps of things too overwhelming to process. All at once. Why does life do that?


I'm not one to immediately leap to the "lesson"... in fact, sometimes I think our world has gotten so New Age-y that we are overly anxious to skip about ten steps to get right to the relief. For those left behind, there isn't relief. There just isn't. Maybe grief will de-intensify over time, but maybe it won't. Maybe they learn to live within the grief. They'll carve their lives around it, build their ships around the anchor of it.


I've always been someone who treasured life, clung to it even in my unhappiest of moments. A part of me has always inherently understood that even heartache has its place in the grand experience. I can't imagine choosing to leave this wondrous place. I know its troubles, I know its tragedies, I know its cruelty and I fear its evil. But I have lived its incredible beauty in so many ways, and those far outweigh the bad things.


How could anyone want to leave the smell of snow in winter, the sound of a bat connecting with a baseball, The Beatles, fresh-squeezed lemonade, the twinkle of Christmas lights, bowling, rollercoasters, the sound trees make in a breeze, the memory of a first kiss, pumpkin pancakes, cinnamon rolls, a really good slice of pizza? Wherever they think they're going when they choose to leave this world, I would venture a guess there is not a good slice of pizza to be found.

Where DO they think they're going?

If it has proved too painful to be here, what relief do they suppose is waiting on the other side? If there is a God, do they think He or She is waiting for them on the other side of that suicide, congratulating them for giving it all up? No, I suppose if it all has gotten too bad for them here on Earth, they don't much care what anyone thinks anymore. Certainly they have proven they don't much care about devasted mothers, heartbroken sisters and brothers left to pick up the pieces...

What if reincarnation awaits them? Oh goodie, guess what? You tried to take yourself out, sir, but get back in line, because now you're starting over! And just for a little karmic comedy we're gonna throw you into a third world country! Then maybe you'll appreciate how nice you had it last lifetime. Have fun! Back to the same lesson, until you get it. You escaped NOTHING.

And what if all they're after is the nothingness? Just silence from their unbearable pain? Are they counting on the nothingness, praying to GOD there IS no God to receive them and hold them accountable? Praying reincarnation is just a figment of Shirley MacLaine's imagination? And if they are right that there is nothing beyond death, HOW could the nothingness be better than the living? I'll take the heartbreak, every time. The glorious heartbreak is proof that I'm alive. And oh, to be alive...

There are a few instances where I understand a choice to leave this world. Disease, unbearable physical pain... the loss of a child. I don't even like to entertain these horrific thoughts, but perhaps the closest I can come to understanding suicide is to realize that for some people, their emotional pain might be akin to those extremes...? I don't know.

This incident has catapulted many of us right back to the darkest hours of our pasts. We've all had them; moments of being a quivering fetal mess, bathed in worthlessness. Moments where the pain seemed insurmountable. But as Stan so eloquently said to me, "If I had thrown it all away back in my darkest hour, I wouldn't have you. I wouldn't have these two beautiful children. I wouldn't have this life. I wish I could have told him to just hang on. Tough it out. Look what can change. Look what can happen."

I think about a friend of mine who is currently battling breast cancer. She's fighting to stay on this planet for all she's worth, enduring chemo, radiation, overwhelming nausea, fatigue, baldness. There are days where she can't leave her bed or hug her kids. She's forced to cut off both her breasts. This is what she must do if she is going to stay alive. But she is willing to pay that price, ANY price, for the gift of seeing her children graduate high school, college, to someday hold their children. What a stark contrast to the example before me of a perfectly healthy person who took himself out of this world by choice! What would my friend make of this? Would she consider it a personal affront to her?

I am filled with questions, and not many answers. In this time of desperation and uncertainty, I can only cling to the things I do know: that I cherish my own life in all its messiness, its joy, its anger, its boredom, even. Oh, for the luxury of being bored! I am grateful. I hug my children extra hard and send a prayer to God, to Karma, to Darkness: please keep them safe and happy and healthy... and PLEASE let me help them understand what a gift life is.