Death

My beautiful grandad and last remaining grandparent passed away peacefully in his sleep. Inevitably, this got me thinking about death. Processing it, how it can bring family together, and the opportunity to step away from the busyness of life and reflect.

Death is weird. Everyone grieves differently. Everyone processes it differently. You never believe it’s coming until it does. The disconnect is strange. Death is coming for us all. Hopefully, we live a good life while we’re here. I’m still figuring out what that means.

While it comforted me that my grandad died peacefully, my processing of his death surprised me. Initially, I wept as he was dying. After I stopped crying, a feeling of quiet, profound sadness remained. This was different from depression in that the sadness was focused on someone else. It made me sense that maybe this was a little like what non-depressed people feel when they feel sad.

At the funeral, I mostly felt okay until the final goodbye, when I shed a few tears. After that, it became surreal again as we had to stand in line and greet many people I didn’t know when all I wanted to do was be with close family. It was nice that they expressed their condolences, and I did know a few people, but I think the whole family just wanted it to be over. I guess everyone needs the opportunity to process in their own way—it’s not just about the family – he touched many lives.

Although my wife, child and I were unable to see my grandad before he died, his passing brought the whole family together, including the children. Alongside sadness, we experienced joy in those three weeks. It was also nice to be back in the countryside in my hometown. It was lovely watching my child roam free. Free in space, free from pollution and noise, free to explore nature.

My parents loved the time they spent with their grandchildren, too. My child excitedly looked for them every morning and was eager to help in the garden. Oh, the joy of having a garden.

The trip back home allowed for deep introspection. I reflected on my grandparents’ lives and the time and energy they spent with us as we were growing up. We have so many happy memories of the local outings, watching the same movie every Sunday, performing for the family, and hiding away for dinner in a wonderful portable wooden house in the garden.

A more recent memory is of the last time we saw my grandad while he was alive. My child got to meet his great-grandad. I’m so happy about that. They played peek-a-boo together, and we visited many places, with him telling us stories about the local area. Precious memories.

I also reflected on my recent flirtations with death and overcoming that again and again over the years. It made me realise how much of my life I’ve used up and how I’m not happy with how I’m presently using my time. Work and separation from quality family time are making me sick.

The main gift from this is realising how precious life is. It’s not to be wasted. It’s a truth I’m aware of, yet can’t seem to fully grasp. I can’t seem to find long-lasting peace and joy, but I believe it’s possible and will relentlessly keep striving.

While death is weird and sad and complicated, it’s an opportunity to learn how to live.

No question.

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