Listen Yall: Death After Death.

Daddy is gone. He isn’t coming back, so when am I going to accept that? Soon? Never? Ever? I can’t believe it’s been almost a year since he died. Part of me died with him. I’ll never forget his face when he crossed over.

Still. Colorless. Emotionless. He was dead. Gone.

No longer was the body that lay before me my daddy. No, what made my dad who he was left long ago. Long before he left me.

Why is it so hard, Death? It creeps in the shadows. Silent. Waiting. It grips its prey and kills. Sometimes swiftly and without warning. Sometimes slowly and painfully.

Both ways Death kills are hard to grasp. Hard to accept. When Death kills quickly, those left behind are immediately gutted. No warning. No time for preparation. They’re left confused and with so many questions.

But when Death kills slowly, well there’s some time to prepare. Time to wrap your head around the ravaging hand you’ve been dealt. Still, it’s hard no matter how quick or how slow. Death is not something we are supposed to understand yet for many, closure seems impossible without it. Understanding that is.

Both of these perceptions of how Death kills are from the perspective of those left behind, yet for the one being taken, an immediate death would almost seem more desirable, if you had a choice. There’s most often little to no suffering as it’s immediate.

But being the victim of a slow death? Well, that seems like hell to me. You have time to reflect on your life. All the right, all the wrong. All the things that you did and didn’t do. And if your slow death is a result of cancer, well then your left to endure the pain of treatment and eventual death.

So readers, my questions are these: Are those of us left behind selfish for wanting, and getting, extra time with our loved one while they slowly die? While they suffer? And wouldn’t we also be selfish for wishing they were still here with us had their death been quick and painless, since our entire life would have changed in the blink of an eye?

Either way, life changes when you lose a loved one. You change. If you didn’t change, I’d be worried. While the change is hard and painful and you feel so gutted, so empty, allow yourself to feel that. Don’t suppress and ignore the hurt. It won’t do you any good. Facing the pain is how you grow as a person along your own life journey.

Stay True,

Hails