The funny thing about death is, we always think it's what happens to someone else. It doesn't happen to you and certainly never those we care about. It's always someone else's brother, someone else's father who was too young, too sudden and we are saddened but somehow accept it. Yet the acceptance of our own demise, or those we hold dear, never seems a possibility. As with all taboo conversations, we never talk about what if…let alone….when it happens.
Yet we are easily able to accept the passing of virtually hundreds of people in the news, in the neighborhood and if distant enough....in the family. An earthquake in Turkey warrants a tutting and shaking of the head....but not real pain, real sorrow. Even though the tragedy is so immense, the loss of life is so unnecessary. The ability to feel that pain and want to do something to help, to be part of that pain process is something not many are cut out for. It is empathy that is not about themselves.
For most people it is for the most part usually about themselves.
Recently I was part of a sad parting of a family member due to ill health. His son lived abroad and so we waited 2 days for the last rites to take place. The 'body', as it is suddenly now called, despite being an uncle, papa, bhai for years....lay in a transparent refrigerated box. Yet after the initial dismay, everyone cried, ate, talked, chastised and even laughed heartily as though he were right there...or not there at all. It wasn't out of disrespect or lack of sadness...it was simply time moving on. The next moment moved onto the next....and then the next. Time stood still for no one. So most everyone, except those for whom life will never be the same again, accepts what is inevitable and moves forward with the rituals that are a way to accept and escape reality.
I often find a partner finding themselves adrift and lost without the identity of a partner to define them. Women are particularly susceptible to this. They often embrace the role that society has defined for them, and they for themselves. A sad, weepy version of the person they once were. After the grieving process is over and our scriptures have defined this well....it is important that we embrace our new self, our free self more than ever before. Children, if they are adults, must respect this. Osho has in fact heartily recommended this as a time to begin living and learning again and a second lease on life.
I'm not taking away from the loss for those who feel that this is so unfeeling. But to those who live on, live on. Don't subject yourself to years of dying slowly, telling the same sad stories and having a pity party that is so ingrained in our Indian psyche.
I'm reminded of my grandmother, a gentle soulful smiling lady in her crumpled cotton sari who loved working with her hands, constantly cooking and cleaning for her large family, an only sister of 8 brothers whose wisdom and demeanor was always available to each of us. At the young age of 42 or 43 she had 6 children and her husband was killed by a misguided young man. After his trial she forgave him.... saying God knows what compulsions he had ( kya maloom uss ki kya majboori rahi hogi). She never spoke of it again. Not in passing, not as a reflection on the hardships of her life. Never! She never ever felt sorry for herself. She never mentioned the incident to us her grandchildren. She got on with the business of bringing up 6 children single handedly. I was and still remain awe inspired by her grace and gratitude despite all life had done. She accepted death, that it was to come sooner or later. In her case sooner. She accepted its inevitability. She understood that life was for the living. That death was neither bad nor good, it was simply the end of the road.
I had an English teacher who was angry with her father and therefore not talking to him. He left for a road trip, and never returned. She said, since that day, her family made it a point that whenever they travelled, they would go and meet each family member warmly before leaving regardless of anything else going on.…who knows it could be for the very last time. I have imbibed this rule into my family.
Death does not take anyone away from you, it cannot. People stay alive deep in our hearts and in our minds. People actually leave us when we forget them. When we neglect them. A hug, a kind word, an email telling them you are thinking of them, a phone call just to tell them what is special about them….will put years into their life.
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