Death and dying

Death is one of the most complex phenomena in human existence. It’s layered and convoluted. We’ve spent ages, generations, eons attempting to figure out what death truly is – Is it merely the senescence of the mortal body and a celebration of the immortal soul? Is it simply a stage that each individual’s spirit undergoes? Or is it the end? There are a myriad of beliefs as far as this topic is concerned, but none (as far as I know) have been concretely proven.

I had an encounter with death today. Somebody who lives in my apartment passed away. She was around ninety years old and was the mother of a resident who is nearing old age himself. When I found out, I didn’t know how to react. My first response was to harden and desensitize myself to the loss because I never knew the person, I don’t think I’d ever met her. It worked for a bit, while my parents went upstairs to pay their respects to her and the family and while the ambulance pulled into our street. I was able to go on with my work and block the thought out of my mind. But then, I saw her son’s face.

I’ve never seen a dead body before (and I still haven’t), but from behind the french doors that lead to my balcony, I saw the face of her son. He wasn’t crying, he didn’t look torn from the outside. Yet, when I saw him, something inside me flipped. I felt compelled to go out into my balcony and look at the others who were paying their respects. They all had masks on, so it was hard to see their full expressions, but there was a sense of heaviness in the air. I wanted to leave, I truly did. I even took two steps backwards to go back inside the house, but something had rooted my feet to the floor and my heart told me to stay.

I remember that I crossed my arms and watched the people, never daring to look directly at the ambulance, afraid that I would see the body of the woman. I saw my father standing between two parked cars, saw some of the other residents and only looked towards the ambulance when the doors shut. I saw a white sheet and I saw the son once again.

No tears, no body-wracking sobs, none of it. He just looked like he was somewhere between empty and normal. Seeing that expression would have confused me before, but now, I think I understand a little.

Every single person standing on that street while they took her into the ambulance had a similar expression. Heaviness.

Death brought on that heaviness.

I’ve had very few encounters with death in my life. Less than a handful. But today, I do see the true impact of it. When a person dies, they take a piece of every single person whose lives they touched with them. It’s a powerful, heart-wrenching phenomena that can both destroy one and ground them.

My chest feels heavy while writing this, but death and dying are herculean subjects – things that each of us will have to deal with at some point in our lives and as sorrowful I thought it to be before, as of today, I truly feel sobered and humbled at the prospect of it.