transition mettle

Most of you who know me know that my grandmother passed away last Wednesday, Oct. 3. This is not meant to be a sad post, nor is it meant to glean a wave of sympathy. I simply see it as an important piece of background knowledge necessary to approach this post.

As with any life there is death, obviously. But it is the nature of that life that determines the nature of the death. A happy life filled with friendships and love seems to recall a death shrouded in sadness and mourning. Conversely, a sad life filled with spite, anger and misery seems to welcome and accept a timely death.

After spending so many days of this past week filled to the brim with such sadness, I find myself wondering how it is that the above statement makes so much sense. All death should be a celebration of life. Regardless of the condition of that life.

I've spent hours and hours of the last week talking about my grandmother and her vivacious spirit and her love. And her cooking. And every time I begin, I fill up. For selfish reasons yes, but also for the sense of loss I feel for those who missed out on knowing her. My true sadness comes on their behalf.

Death should not be so sad, someone once told me. Death should not be so miserable. Funerals are for the living, and grief is transient.

Existentialism has never been my thing. But the more I "deal" with death, the more I come to understand its purpose. Truly, death is just another part of the cycle. Life is not linear, there is a beginning and an end, to be sure, but who's to say that there is only one of each. But the more I deal with death, the more I understand that while we are "required" to be born, live, and then die, the process serves a greater purpose.

It is the purpose of hope and understanding for those you leave behind. The death of loved ones should stand as a reminder of the evanescence of life. There is tragedy in death, yes, but there is also great hope. The hope is the legacy of those still living.