I can't really tell you in detail how I came across this commenter's post. I was down some kind of ADHD rabbit hole which started out as looking up the topic of religion, which led to topics on gods, which led to topics on afterlives, which led to the topic of death.
Honestly, it was a natural progression in intellectual research, but this comment seemed to catch my eye.
It got me thinking about how I deal with death, or rather how I used to deal with death, and how my relationship with death has changed over the years.
I feel my first true introduction to death was when my mother passed away in 1992. I was young at the time, having just turned 14. It was a time of transition for me, as I had also just graduated from Elementary School (Grade 8) and would be soon moving into Highschool.
Everything seemed to move slower back then. Summers would last forever. School days dragged on to infinity. Christmas felt like days rather than hours. I felt like I had all the time in the world. I think it's because, at that age, you have so much life ahead of you, and are so naïve to death, that you don't yet realize how short life can be.
My mother's passing was the first time that I ever felt something went fast, and I didn't know how to process that. A sharp pain at home, then she was at the hospital, then I was getting news she was gone. In reality, the Cancer didn't take her that quickly. That's just how it felt because we, as children, were basically kept distracted from her illness and isolated from her deterioration. Whether it was her wish, or my fathers, I don't know. That's just how it was.
It's hard to explain how that made me feel at the time. I was left grieving her loss, there's no doubt about that. But there was something else. I was mad that she had abandoned me, even though I knew it wasn't her choice. That would actually create a trauma, buried deep within, that it would take me another 20 years to identify and deal with.
While I would attend many funerals for distant relatives, both before and after my mother, my next real introduction to death would come with the passing of my Uncle Bill in 2003. He had been sick for some time, and this was the first time I've ever witnessed someone going through the several stages of health deterioration. Near the end, before he went into the hospital, he was just a shadow of the strong and happy man I had known.
We, as a family, were called to the hospital in his final hours. The vast majority of us made it there, and we all had the option to go in to say our goodbyes. I declined, as I couldn't bare the further deterioration of the mental image I held of my Uncle. I didn't want to remember him strung up with hoses and lines, keeping him alive.
I still regret that decision, even today. I've come to realize that what I actually felt was fear. Fear of death. The same fear that's displayed in the comment which prompted this moment of reflection. I let that fear control me, and it robbed me of that final goodbye with my Uncle.
It wouldn't be the last time I'd let the fear of death control me, and it wasn't always necessarily a bad thing. There were several times in my life where I was in a bad place, mentally. During those times it always felt like I should just start over again, as if ending your life was some kind of "reset" button.
Thankfully I can only count a few times where I was actually standing on that proverbial ledge, ready to jump. What kept me from doing it? That same fear. Sure, it manifested itself in thoughts of who I'd be hurting and how they'd feel about my decision, but the root core of it was the fear of death. In too much pain to live but too afraid to die. Thankfully.
If I'm being honest with myself, I'd carry this fear of death with me for quite a long time. It would manifest itself in several ways, mostly in the avoidance of any association with death. While my grandfather faced cancer, I kept busy. While cousins would be at his hospice bedside constantly, I only went once. I don't even recall seeing either Grandmother prior to their death. I would distance myself anytime someone's life was close to ending.
This fear of death would follow me until my 30's. I really don't know what turned me around, but I hypothesize it was the fact that I grew up in a big family and funerals just seemed to be a way of life. I went from fearing death to almost becoming numb to it.
Actually, I think what made me start to look at death differently was when I started to peace together how old those closest to me were when they actually passed on. My mother had passed away at 41. My uncle had passed away at 45. I had an aunt, who I barely knew, pass away at 36. My stepmother passed away at 65.
As I entered my 40's I began to realize that, regardless of whether I want to or not, I am gonna die one day. It's a natural part of life. Once you realize that, it becomes less of something to fear and more of something to race against.
Around the same time I started to take note of my elderly father, as he began to comment about things he wished he could still do but no longer had the ability to. I came to the shock that he's actually only 34 years older than I am.
For once I had a hard barrier, and I think that's why most men in their 40's hit that "mid-life crisis". You realize that it's not about how long you'll live. It's actually about how long you'll be able to do things. You can live to 110, but who's to say you'll be able to dance beyond 80? Or travel beyond 70? Or ride a motorbike beyond 60?
This led me to actually start living my life. It was more than just buying a motorcycle, which I actually did. I completely flipped around my entire perspective on life. While I spent decades trying to make others happy, I now put my own happiness as a priority.
I worked on my mental health, while discovering I've had ADHD this entire time. I focused on work, putting training and professional integrity at the forefront of my career. I focused on rewarding myself for real positive behaviors. I set financial goals and worked to achieve them.
Today I'm actually the happiest I've ever been. I'm in control of my life. I own a motorcycle and love the freedom of riding. I do what I want, when I want. I don't let others dictate what I should be doing. I don't let the fear of "what if" control me anymore.
While death clearly still looms at the end of this road, I now realize that Death is only there to remind me that I should live my life to it's fullest, because I have no idea how long this road will be.
