death

i had a dream last night that my brother died. it was the most helpless feeling, he had been there, cracking jokes, laughing, being his normal little brother self. then just gone. gone. i woke up with tears on my face and desperation.

death has felt present these last months, and though its always everywhere, right now, i feel like its right here. not ominous. just present.

both my grandmothers face it simultaneously. one, sick for 20 years with diabetes and all the ways its tearing her body apart. she is scared to die, scared to leave her husband, scared she will miss out on life here. she knows she will be with God when she goes and wants more than anything for her whole family to be with Him. she prays all the time for my family, she says. though she believes in heaven, she is scared to die. the other, sick for the last few years from the effects of smoking since she was 12, is not scared to die, but is not letting go easily. one moment, she will be ready to let go, refusing to eat and drink. the next, she wants to go to the hospital for an iv. her daughters don't know how she wants to die. she wants more than anything for the whole family to believe in God and be together in heaven. she prays every night for my sister, brother, dad.

my mothers co-worker recently died, inexplicably. she was in her 30's, a preschool teacher. they closed the preschool last week one day for the funeral. they dont know what happened.

a bicyclist was killed on a major road in town a few weeks ago. a semi-truck, a wrong turn. and he is gone.

a few months ago, a friend lost a sibling to suicide. his art hangs on our coffeehouse walls, reminding us of potential we think was cut short in his decision... perhaps of potential realized just in time. i could not understand my friends pain until last nights dream. now in the smallest ways, its present, next to me.

what of death tasted and then retreating? before last nights dream, my roommate and i had talked about near-death experience... the "unconditional love" some say they feel in the moments when faced with death. 90 minutes in heaven, one pastor claims, is what he experienced before returning back to live out the rest of his days having tasted the ultimate unknown.

one of our pastors revels in reminding us, in an oddly endearing way, that when we see the elderly people who come mondays and fridays to use our church building, that all of us will be there someday, will all someday pass away.

its the only guarantee we have of anything, beyond our birth.

after her co-workers death, my mother spoke with someone close to us who reads the obituaries everyday. she does it, habitually, thinking if she knows about death enough, the age of death, the cause, perhaps she can control or understand it more or somehow get it. she feels that being older, with no more kids in the house, with many of her dreams accomplished already, with nothing to look forward to, really, that she has no purpose. and so death is all there is. and death is scary, completely unknown.

a few weeks ago, we visited one of our oldest and newest church members in the icu. she lay there, as we entered, glowing. the doctors had pulled all the machines keeping her alive. she had made this decision, she said, and was at peace with it. and she was right. peace, peace. just peace. so simple and uncomplicated. she was facing the biggest unknown, the thing most of us fear the most and she was doing it with confidence. i am not sure i had seen such beauty. we got to spend a few moments with her on one of her last days on earth, praying with her, touching her hand. she passed the next week. her daughters told us the doctors commented that they never see people die with such peace and dignity like she did.

i am not sure what to think if this all. death still elludes me. what it will be like. what it will feel like. but i think i know how i want to go. with peace and confidence. dignity. unafraid.