D--Death

D—Death

I know.  I know.  Don’t go there.  But I am plagued by an intense desire to address DEATH  in this blog.  

By definition, Death is: the act or fact of dying; permanent ending of all life in a person, animal, or plant; the state of being dead; total destruction.  This, according to Webster’s New World College Dictionary.  The Oxford Dictionary says: the destruction or end of something.  Wikipedia states: cessation of life.  And by the way, “death” is a noun.  Nice, neat, concise.  But when we use this noun, it gets downright sticky.

First, I have to admit, publicly, in writing, I have caused death. I am a murderer.  I can hear plants conspiring among themselves in whispers, “Don’t perk up around her!  If she buys you and takes you home, you’re DEAD!”  And they are right.  I don’t sadistically  buy plants to take them home and murder them—but they do die—every time.  I used to name them.  “I dub you Sir Henry!” and I would water, feed, expose them to sunlight or not, as directions instructed.  I would talk to them, play music for them, keep their little leaves free of dust.  Geez!  I tried!  But alas, they all died.  The grim reaper would sneak in despite my best efforts to keep the dear plants alive.  After many futile attempts, with both indoor and outdoor plants, I had to realize that I, myself, was the harbinger of death.  I don’t even visit nurseries to look around anymore.  I can see the beautiful plants and flowers huddle, shrink and cringe if I wander around.  I’m not a mean person, so I spare them my presence and hence their heightened anxiety over my being in their presence.  But other than the dear plants, I am proud I have not killed any other living entity (that I know of).

On a more sobering note, I feel I have seen enough death, experienced enough death, that I am sickened.  I have lost friends to cancer, to AIDs, to severe abuse, to Alzheimers, cystic fibrosis, car accidents, and suicide.  Each time, my heart bleeds and breaks.  I lost so many friends in the Vietnam war.  We graduated together from high school.  They were drafted into the military and left.  They came home in body bags and flags draped over makeshift coffins.  Those that physically came back often were like the walking dead.  A part of them had died in their experiences in war.  Yes, a part of them died.

So what is death truly?  It is something different to each of us.  If you believe in an afterlife, it is merely a transition from this world to another.  If you believe in reincarnation, it is a temporary leaving to come back later.  If you hold to neither of those beliefs, it makes you worm food.  Are any of them dire and repulsive?  No.  All three are legitimate beliefs and there are oh so many more takes on death that I, in my ignorance, have no knowledge of, but I know they exist.

With death, the western culture wants “closure.”  A service is held, the mortuary people try to make the deceased look like they are asleep—natural— so we can shield ourselves from the fact that this is it.  They won’t be walking through the door tomorrow, or call you up, or send you a birthday card.  Dead.  Gone.  Cessation of life functions.  We try to console ourselves with euphemisms like: “She/he is with Jesus now.”  “She/he is out of pain now.”  “She/he lived a good, long life.”    Ever hear or say those little bits of…I don’t even know how to classify them, what to call those words.  But they are said, acknowledged, and the living go on.

Death is a fact.  Not an alternative truth, not an avoidable event (though humanity tries endlessly to change that), and something we all have to face at one time or another.  All life ceases individually at some point.  Deal with it or don’t.  That won’t change it.  But some things DON’T DIE.  And this is my truth and what I would like to wrap up with.

Ideas don’t die.  Evil does not die.  Good does not die.  Right now, this current day, I see great quotes from revered and esteemed people who have died physically, but who are with all of us.  Martin Luther King, Jr. is being quoted.  John F. Kennedy is being quoted.  Abraham Lincoln is being quoted.  Mother Theresa is being quoted. And on and on the list goes. They all fostered love, respect, caring for each other.  George Orwell is being read as he wrote about what could happen in 1984.  Their words, their goodness have not died!  But to recognize goodness, we must recognize evil.  Hitler is remembered.  Stalin is remembered.  They are quoted.  Dictators are admired in some circles.  The KKK and Neo-Nazis and White Supremacy tout their hate and discrimination.  History has become very important as we see good vs evil battles occur over and over.  The ideologies, the words, the beliefs do not die.  You can bury Martin Luther King, Jr., but you cannot bury what he stood for.  You can bury Adolf Hitler, but you did not bury what he stood for.  Their ideas, words, are NOT DEAD.

People, animals, plants die.  Ideas, words, and most importantly, GOOD AND EVIL , DO NOT DIE.   They are self-perpetuating and will not die.  There is no DEATH in this realm.  We are watching it play out right now, where we are, with what we believe in.  The physical may cease to exist, but the words said, the ideas put forth, the idea of good vs evil will continue on after physical bodies die and go, or don’t go, wherever.  But there is yet one more component to all this—the idea of FREEDOM.  It is innate in every human soul.  It will not die.  It draws the lines of good and evil.  (This is another blog entirely.)

So enough already.  To recap, we are all going to die.  FACT.  My truth about this word DEATH is that as someone who aspires to use words constructively and with kindness and compassion, my body will surely die, but my words will never know death as long as someone reads or remembers them.  And I pray they ring true.  I aspire to share love, compassion, comfort.  That cannot be buried in death.