Preparing for death

This is not so much preparing for your death, though it would still help, as preparing for the death of others.

This is just going to be a short post, I think. I'm sick, and I have been editing 250 pages this weekend. The piece I am working on involves a lot of death, and there's actually one scene where a few people get to meet up afterwards.

In the main blog I have been writing a lot about writing, and how part of it is things come out that you hadn't thought about before, and they make sense. When these people get to see each other, there are basically three things that they want to say: I missed you, I'm sorry, and thank you.I guess the subtext of all of them is "I love you".

I was thinking about it because there have been some deaths recently. I believe we get to see each other again, and I do think that makes things easier. I'm not sure how people who don't believe that manage. However, I think the things that you want to stay would be the same. If there is gratitude that you have not expressed, or there is an apology that has not been offered, that is what is going to weigh you down.

The good news is, we don't need to leave those things unsaid. Thank you is easy to say. It should be followed by "You're welcome." Don't negate the other person's gratitude with attempts at modesty and self-negation. Saying "You're welcome" gives people closure. The next time you thank someone and they try to tell  you it's nothing, see how frustrating that is, and don't do it to anyone else. Give and accept freely.

Apologies are not as easy as thank yous, but mastering that ability is an amazing thing, and not doing it will hurt you more than not saying "thank you". Remember, you never know when it will be the last time that you see someone.

I think I learned a lot of that from Eric. You just never had a bad experience with him. He was always glad to see you, and always kind. He left a hole when he was gone by his absence, but there were no regrets, other than wishing he had gotten a faster diagnosis.

That kind of leads to the last part: I missed you. There's not a way around this one. It's probably the one the least necessary to say. In fact, the response ends up being "I know." But this could end up being the most important part.

I think sometimes with religious people, because we know it's not the end, there is an impulse to downplay the grief, like it shows a lack of faith. That's not it. The separation hurts. Knowing it is not final keeps it from turning into despair, and that is valuable, but it still hurts.

I remember once sending a card to a friend after her mother died, and as I was writing it I realized the complete inadequacy of it. I couldn't say anything to make it better, but I had to write because I cared, and she was hurting. Basically what I wrote in the card was that I knew I couldn't help, and she wrote back that it was the only thing that did help. It's strange that people would need permission to grieve, because surely they are doing it anyway, but somehow, that validation helped. Maybe because it came with love.

So miss people. Cry, and remember, and feel grateful that it is not the end, but go ahead and be sad about the pause in the relationship. That's life, and death. I can't verbally explain how it works, but I know that it does.

You only hear the music when  your heart begins to break.