When Death Comes Calling

I don't care who you are. Death will one day come a-knocking at your door. Do you dread that day? Are you afraid to die? Do you really think you will? Why is it that we're so terrified of Death, when we all know it's inevitable? Or is it?

There are many who believe that this Life, the one we're experiencing now in these human bodies, is leading us to some 'other place'. Some call it Heaven. Others call it The Other Side. Still others believe that there will be many to follow, as there have been many before. But regardless of your beliefs or where you think you're going from here, one thing seems to be undisputed: we will all experience Death at some point.

My own curiosity is more about why we're so afraid of it. Maybe it's because I've lived through so many. So many I've loved have left this place called Earth and are...wherever they are. Each time I've had these experiences, they've all been vastly different. Not just because of the nature of my relationships with those who've passed, but also because of the nature of who I was and/or AM when it happens. One thing that seems most obvious to me now is this:

We do not LOSE them.

My most recent experience with Death was a mere week ago. It was both shocking and a huge surprise. Never saw it coming. He was FINE! Even that very morning, when I went into the kitchen to make my coffee, he was his usual bright-eyed self. He ate his breakfast and wanted to play and did all the things he'd always done every morning since he got here. And then, just like that...with no warning whatsoever, he laid down and LEFT.

POOF. Gone right before my eyes.

As I watched this beautiful Being leave his body, surrounded by all who loved him, I was, at first, in total denial. Even though I couldn't feel a heart beat or any semblance of air moving in and out of his lungs, even though I saw his eyes, now vacant and lifeless, I couldn't wrap my brain around it. How could this be? He was FINE and hour ago. HOW COULD THIS BE?

But then, there was a beautiful calm that washed over me. I laid there next to him, crying into his neck, holding on to the slightest chance that it wasn't true. I cried because I knew his leaving would make me feel differently. That his absence would change me. That his smile and his goofy mannerisms would no longer be available for my amusement. In short, I was crying for ME, not him. He had a WONDERFUL life. He was happy and able and thrilled to be here. He had lived well, at least during his time with me.

As we attended to the task of moving his body and making arrangements for his burial, I vacillated between joy and deep sadness. It was a day of exhausting emotions. It was a day I will always remember. It was another revealing experience of just who I am now and how much I've learned about Life.

He was an angel sent to teach me, and others who knew him, some very important lessons. He taught those lessons with kind patience and a terrific sense of humor. He left us all feeling more loved than we'd been before he arrived. He was a GIFT.

Now, a week later, I still find myself looking for him. I keep expecting to see him every morning, lying there on his cozy bed, listening to his gentle snoring. I keep waiting for him to come bounding up the stairs, demanding my attention. I keep thinking...it's a dream.

Maybe it's all a dream. Maybe even this 'waking state' is imagined. What if it is? What if it's all just one big illusion, and we're here to decide which parts to make real and which parts to dismiss?

I don't know the answers to any of this. But I do know that as I live through each Death experience, I am more and more grateful for Life. I am more aware of the tiny little things that make me smile and want to dance. I am, MORE ALIVE because Death visits.

And perhaps, that is ALL it's here to show us.