Dying And Living
I guess some of you may be a bit tired of my conversations on dying. I feel as though for me it is an endless dialogue that we should have but don't. Many of us do not think about dying until we are literally dying. It is in that moment that perhaps we wish we'd thought about it a little more, planned it to some degree and then begin to ponder this idea of eternal life in spirit. And so I invite the conversation to happen and that this talk be one that is open and honest. I for one feel it a need to be more open about death and how important it is to live yet be more prepared for that moment when we leave this earth on bodily form.
My first experience with death was when my great grandmother died in the middle of the night. I remember being a young boy of about seven and waking up thinking: "something is not right here". Once I got up and moved into the hallway I was stopped by my grandfather who warned me that there was something serious going on. My great grandmother was a few feet away from me and she had already died. The peri-medics left and my grandmother closed the door. In those days the funeral home came for the body, it was prepared and one could have the wake inside the home. The next day my beautiful Spanish great grandmother was in the living room, in a coffin and on display. I was to say it mildly, very confused. That night after friends and family prayed over her I went to bed thinking, "is that all there is?" It was for me that defining moment between life and death and the unexplained parts in between.
The next most unexpected death was that of my sister Dora. Still in her twenties and beautiful beyond description, inside and out, she was for me one of the most special people on earth. The very early phone call from the morgue office was truly shocking to me. I thought they'd made a mistake, maybe called the wrong person about someone who was not my sister. Maybe they made a mistake in identity? How would they know? When I arrived at the address that was given to me and parked in front, my brother proceeded to walk towards me in tears. I looked at him and could not believe the words that came out of his mouth: "Dora is dead". He had to say it again and tell me he'd already identified her body before it sunk in. My beautiful sister had taken her life and was found dead in a hotel room where she chose to put a bullet into her head. I cried for weeks and felt inconsolable. Nothing prepared me for this moment.
Some may think that death is an awful nightmare yet recently when the love of my life died I realized that death is sad yet in a bigger way it is a celebration. I think that since my sister's death I had finally placed death in it's proper perspective and now see it as a passing to the next life. I don't know if there is a next life but I believe there is. When my love, the mother of my daughters, and the best friend I ever had died I looked at her and what I could see was a sense of peace. There was a semi-smile on her face and what it told me was that she was ready to take that journey to the next spiritual aspect of her life. I had pain, I had sadness, but I had relief and gratitude that she had passed peacefully without so much as a sound. Something about this death was different, perhaps because I knew her to be a courageous woman with love in her heart for mankind. I knew inside me she was going on a beautiful journey and that she had released her body and the life as I know it.
People die and if they love us they want us to live fully in our joy. People go but they leave with us a desire to live each moment in all its glory. People go but they remind us to understand when to let go and accept it.
Elliott M. Collazo
My first experience with death was when my great grandmother died in the middle of the night. I remember being a young boy of about seven and waking up thinking: "something is not right here". Once I got up and moved into the hallway I was stopped by my grandfather who warned me that there was something serious going on. My great grandmother was a few feet away from me and she had already died. The peri-medics left and my grandmother closed the door. In those days the funeral home came for the body, it was prepared and one could have the wake inside the home. The next day my beautiful Spanish great grandmother was in the living room, in a coffin and on display. I was to say it mildly, very confused. That night after friends and family prayed over her I went to bed thinking, "is that all there is?" It was for me that defining moment between life and death and the unexplained parts in between.
The next most unexpected death was that of my sister Dora. Still in her twenties and beautiful beyond description, inside and out, she was for me one of the most special people on earth. The very early phone call from the morgue office was truly shocking to me. I thought they'd made a mistake, maybe called the wrong person about someone who was not my sister. Maybe they made a mistake in identity? How would they know? When I arrived at the address that was given to me and parked in front, my brother proceeded to walk towards me in tears. I looked at him and could not believe the words that came out of his mouth: "Dora is dead". He had to say it again and tell me he'd already identified her body before it sunk in. My beautiful sister had taken her life and was found dead in a hotel room where she chose to put a bullet into her head. I cried for weeks and felt inconsolable. Nothing prepared me for this moment.
Some may think that death is an awful nightmare yet recently when the love of my life died I realized that death is sad yet in a bigger way it is a celebration. I think that since my sister's death I had finally placed death in it's proper perspective and now see it as a passing to the next life. I don't know if there is a next life but I believe there is. When my love, the mother of my daughters, and the best friend I ever had died I looked at her and what I could see was a sense of peace. There was a semi-smile on her face and what it told me was that she was ready to take that journey to the next spiritual aspect of her life. I had pain, I had sadness, but I had relief and gratitude that she had passed peacefully without so much as a sound. Something about this death was different, perhaps because I knew her to be a courageous woman with love in her heart for mankind. I knew inside me she was going on a beautiful journey and that she had released her body and the life as I know it.
People die and if they love us they want us to live fully in our joy. People go but they leave with us a desire to live each moment in all its glory. People go but they remind us to understand when to let go and accept it.
Elliott M. Collazo
Comments
Post a Comment