I see thy soul shake off its earthly load,
Spring into life, immortal, half a god…..
~Ophelia, “To the Memory of a deceased Friend,” The Gentleman’s Magazine, June 1751
A neighbor died a couple of days ago; another a couple of months ago. Both were people I knew quite well, liked, and enjoyed spending time with. The first I understood: the man had multiple illnesses and refused to follow his doctors’ orders. We all watched him get to that dwindling state that, at our ages, we recognize as the beginning of the end. His grieving widow is a friend of mine. She is still staggering around trying to do the paperwork of death, which is overwhelming, at the same time she is trying to deal with her grief. Seeing it coming doesn’t make death much easier, but somewhat more understandable.
This second death, however, caught me by surprise. Dorothy had some problems last summer; acquired new doctors….that none of us liked….finally got the care she needed back home in Indiana. She came down this fall with great hopes, only to fall ill almost immediately. Dorothy collapsed at Thanksgiving dinner; was hospitalized; died a week later. No one saw it coming…after all she had recovered from so much, surely she would recover one more time. But no. When it’s over, it’s over, not our call. Control: what a myth.
I’ve heard it said that every death is every death, and so I’m thinking about my dad, mother, Oscar…..the hours in hospitals by the side of a dying loved one. The finality. Dealing with what comes next.
We’re too old now to deny death. It’s coming for all of us, who knows when. Will it be quick? Slow and painful? Illness? Accident? It’s probably better not to know; but these two deaths on my block have me thinking morbid thoughts. Oh, that won’t last long; I’m relentlessly cheerful; but for now, just for now, I need to think about death.