Last week’s family visit reminded me that I’ve been blessed beyond measure in the seemingly random selection of family members. This blog entry hopes to do justice by my siblings and parents. But first, let’s chat about Death, shall we?
Death is one of those funny little odd things in life we all must deal with. Some can go from birth to death without ever personally knowing the experiences others face daily – the good, the bad, and the mundane. But Death is universal and at the same time is extremely personal.
That’s the bit that makes it so funny – universal yet extremely personal. No one else in this world will ever experience Death like another one will. Yes, the physical and mental experiences may be extremely close when faced with similar scenarios (and for some groups, they all face it at the same moment in time), but in the end, it’s just me and the Reaper looking each other in the eyeballs. Just like everyone else.
My siblings and I have done a good job so far of avoiding Death’s embrace despite our ignorance of how the world works. One of us, however, has passed on by accident – “moved beyond the veil” is a phrase I really love. It is she who lingered behind my thoughts as I plotted my own demise not too long ago.
Life has a funny way of throwing curveballs our way. These are made easier to sort through when one has family support and isn’t afraid to ask for help.
I recall a time when my sister asked for help when she was in desperate need. Thankfully we were both young enough and had been very blessed in life to not know true desperation. Some teens’ scenarios of desperation are staggering and heartbreaking. Ours, fourtunately, never were.
The “most desperate scenario” we found her to be in was that she has accidentally left her orthodontic retainer in the food tray of a local shopping mall’s food court. When she went back to get it, a mall employee had already emptied the tray into an unknown bin. She didn’t want to tell our Dad that she’d lost (another) one, so could I help?
A few hours later, after many many many many trash bags later, a miracle of miracles appeared in the form of once-wayward, now-found dental gear. During the hunt, she and I were both frustrated, hot, and weary. But it never occurred to me to say “no” or to stop until she was out of (relative) danger.
I am blessed in that all my siblings would do the same, and have all done something to show they are in this class of people as well.
I had forgotten this fact when I was facing demons of my own, when I was in a place I thought was barren of life I wanted to be in, when the cold touch of Apathy touched my soul.
When Death looked over and started to make eye contact with me.
No don’t get me wrong; Death isn’t “evil” or “good”. Death is like Fire. It is like Wind or Water or Love. It is a force, like any other natural thing. We love to anthropomorphize it to make writing and thoughts more interesting. I enjoy that as well. But it is not a “bad thing” any more than controlled fire in a campfire or water in a fish tank is evil. Or “good”.
Death is part of life. It is natural.
Unnatural death, now that’s a different story.
It would be safe to say each of us would like to feel “complete” when we know our time in the physical realm is at an end. Whether it’s in a soft, cozy, warm spot with family and friends around to say farewell, on a battlefield knowing we are making a difference for those we leave behind, or any number of moments where we’re done for and have given every effort to stick around.
The unnatural deaths – ah, now these are the most difficult stories to see.
These are they who lose their lives by happenstance – being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Those who are killed by another’s hands, some even before they even have a chance to open their eyes for the very first time. Those who haven’t done quite everything possible to stick around longer and are caught by surprise and unready for the Train to Elsewhere.
And then there are the very unnatural deaths.
These are they who know when they will die and how it will happen. They have a chance to get everything in order before they depart. They know the timetable because they will be their own private agents of Death escorting themselves along the journey. I know the type quite well.
Ah yes, but about my siblings. Let’s chat about them.
Without giving away too much personal detail on a public forum, I’ll say we grew up in what others considered to be a large family. I didn’t think it was large – it was just the right amount of people. Didn’t hurt that I was the eldest and had decision rights to guide the others as needed. Truth be told, I didn’t guide the younguns as well as my parents wished. It was pretty much a free-range babysitting environment when I was in charge. But somehow we all made it though, and they all seem to still love me in the end, so we must have done something right.
I often imaged us to be the personification of nature elements. I am Water, free flowing at times and icy and bitterly hard at others. Another is Fire, molding situations with heat and pressure and galvanizing action from people. Another Earth, solid, firm, and laying the foundation for activities. Wind is there too, carrying life and lifting wings that soar over it. And there is Spirit, moving mostly unseen, but carrying a power that encourages us lift our voices in laughter and action.
Our poor parents, managing a set of energy vessels like this! No wonder we were always losing babysitters.
We were together, daily, struggling and learning. Sometimes struggling against ourselves, but mostly struggling to understand what this thing called “Life” expected of us. Plan for tomorrow? What? TODAY I’m facing [insert struggle here].
Eventually each of us made our way into our own household management roles, and all that this entails. In doing so, we naturally reached out to each other less and less, as we had our own partners and children to live with, love, and manage.
We were learning how not to depend on each other any more.
Not depending on one’s siblings and parents is a natural part of life. It’s a form of Death, in a way. In the natural order of things, we’ll never ever ever again live the life we had as a child.
For some, this is a blessing.
For me, this was a bit of sorrow.
But chin up, we’ve a family in our own home to love and feed, right?
And I did.
For a while.
And then again, a different family, for a little longer while.
Karma, being what it is, never sleeps. It doesn’t forgive, nor does it forget.
It, like Death, isn’t “good” nor “evil”. It just IS.
So when in a fit of pompous rage I walked out on family #1, and started family #2, it was no surprise that partner #2 taught me a bit of grounding humility by pompously raging herself and the kids out of my life after a decade and a half of shared experiences.
So there I was.
Alone.
Well, not literally alone. I did have about 11 million other people around me. Most of them were thankfully extremely polite, especially when we were all pressed up against each other on public transport.
I saw them daily on the walk up the escalators, on the trains, funneling ourselves into the tea shops, grocery stores, office buildings, railway stations.
I chatted with them in the office, made plans and successfully executed them (the plans, not my co-workers), spoke with the people on the phone when that was needed.
But everything I’d worked for since I was 14 years old was gone. All the belongings we shipped overseas were sold off. I say “sold off” but in reality they were sold at pennies on the dollar at auction. I actually came away from the auction with a debt to pay.
Time zones and distance being what they were, I had no ready access to the kids. When I did have contact, it was through a series of extremely stressful and uninformative text message volleys starting at my local time of midnight and ending about 4 am. That’s between dinner time and bedtime back home. Anyone raising kids knows how dramatic this time frame can be, especially with pre-teens and teens involved.
Holding meaningful work sessions with colleagues after having 2 hours of sleep while also fielding angry and heated (and expensive) overseas personal phone calls was kind of far away from the dream work/home life I’d imagined we’d be living.
My siblings?
They were still the amazing people they were, and still are. However, they were filtered out from my vision. Back then, social media wasn’t like it is today. Heck, communication was different then too. Text messages overseas cost 6 pence to send. Smart phones were still in the price range of the elite and well-off, so we were still plonking around with flip-phones and T9 texting layouts. Instant messaging was widely available but one needed to be sitting on a computer or (if we could afford it) a laptop that MAYBE had WiFi internet access nearby.
So my siblings heard bits and fits of my scenario, but never the full extent. I was so focused on the trees in my personal mess that I didn’t realize I’d hit one until it was too late, and was so dazed I didn’t think to call on them as I did when we were children at home.
Being alone is not a bad thing. I’ve grown to love it. To me it’s as natural and refreshing as sunshine on a spring day.
Being unnaturally alone, now that’s a different story.
I became unnaturally alone very very quickly when what was supposed to be a Christmas visit flight home for the family became a surprise one-way trip.
I very quickly recognized Karma when it came overseas and kicked the legs out from under me. “There you go,” it said, “now go apologize to your family #1 now that you really understand this.”
I did and asked Karma to bring things back to normal.
“Not my department,” I heard as it left me to my own devices.
“Devices” are interesting things.
Mirriam-Webster’s first entry for the term says these are “something devised or contrived: such as a scheme to deceive”.
Well, it wasn’t too long before such a thing came visiting round my place. I’ll save the exact series of our conversations for a future blog post as they were very entertaining. However, a brief summary can be boiled down to this:
- The dream you had is dead. Join it.
- You are so far in debt, financially and emotionally. Cut your losses while you can.
- No one cares. They care only as long as you provide things. Punish them by not being here to provide for them.
- What are you waiting for? Do it NOW.
Such a set of concepts does not come overnight. And certainly not to those of rational thought. It’s amazing what sleep deprivation, stress, and lack of control can do to a person. No wonder torture artists use those tactics so often.
It wasn’t long before I found myself staring at oncoming trains, strategic places on bridges, and isolated spots in the city or countryside. What used to be photo op tours to scout for upcoming family outings became strategy missions to find the least messy and unobtrusive place someone would (maybe) eventually find my corpse.
Family to the rescue.
My mother, whether she intended to or not, steered me off a path best not taken.
“Son,” she said, perhaps sensing the unease in my spirit, “you should join this social media group we’re in. You don’t have to write anything, just look at the things we’re posting and keep in touch that way.”
I did just that.
At first, I didn’t post anything. Just watched and saw text and photos from family I’d not heard from in what seemed to be a lifetime ago.
I saw posts from the son of my sibling who’d passed away ever so long ago. I saw a network of information and interests from people I loved. I saw the web articles shared by my mother and father and learned new things about their fields of interest.
I was intrigued. A veil of heavy loss started clearing away. The practicalities of my situation were still present and accounted for, but they were no longer the only thing I came back to see between the times when the current work day was done and a fitful sleep faced me before a new work day was to begin.
And then, magic happened. I posted something. And my sister commented on it. And LOLed.
Seems trivial to write of it. Silly, even.
But at that moment in time, in the world I made for myself, there was little to no responding to my attempts to reach out. Certainly no LOLing.
In this electronic-yet-very-human community of which I was now a part, I saw the light at the end of the tunnel, and it wasn’t a light from an oncoming train.
That trickster Device tapped me on the shoulder but I shrugged it off. I looked at it dead in the eyes, paid my respects, and we parted ways. Death nodded and averted its gaze for a spell.
The world I live in now is populated with my First Best Friends, And Many Others. It’s a much more cheerful place than where I was before. There’s chatter about privacy invasion, data breaches, and personal data collection, which are all very serious subjects. But this world is also a place of thoughts and ideas from those who have known me all my life.
I’m very slowly opening up my filter in this world to include non-family members and benefit from newfound friends’ insights. Many share my world view and many don’t.
I have counseled some who have faced the same demons and decisions I have for reasons of their own, and thankfully they are still here to experience our world with us.
But the core of my thankfulness comes from the bond I have with my siblings and parents. I see them daily, even if we don’t interact on a daily basis. But they are here. I can draw on their strength when I’m feeling low or weary. I hope to think my frequent contributions lift their spirits as well. The thoughts and photos we share – from the silly to the severe – continue to form the foundations of my heart.
My siblings and parents aren’t my collective Saviour – that’s a huge burden to bear – but they are physical, tangible reminders that:
- The dream you had has changed. Join it.
- You have pulled yourself out of debt, financially and emotionally. Enjoy this.
- People care, even if you don’t provide things. Cherish them.
- I’m glad you waited. NOW you can do even better things.
Last bit of experience before I close this one out?
Never enter into a contract when you’re feeling suicidal; you may live to regret the outcome.