Last evening I received an email that someone I'd only recently met had passed away. He was just a few years younger than me. The suddenness of it seems to have stirred me up.
Somehow when I think of the final moments, I imagine it sepia-toned, it plays out in slow-mo over a period of time, as we say our goodbyes, grow old gracefully, set all our affairs in order, make our peace with our lives and then go. No such luck for some of us.
Death is the Ultimate, impartial and Randomly generated outcome there is. The only thing you can be certain about, is that it WILL come to you ! …………. Did your stomach just turn when I said that ? If it didn't, perhaps you should re-read that line.
So, what is it about death that seems so intriguing to me ? Is it morbidity ? No, I think not.
My earliest recollection of a funeral was when I was maybe about 3 or 4 years old. I don’t know whose it was, only that I was there with my grandmother. Maybe some vague friend of hers or a distant relative ? Not sure. I remember some woman bawling her eyes out. Seeing her cry made me want to cry. Not so much for the dead person [ whom I didn't know ], but more from a sense of how inconsolable she was.
My grandmother in her later years became something of a religious nut [ don’t we all ], as she began going to church EVERY evening, with the Rosary prayer on Wednesdays or Thursdays or whatever day it's done. Novena's at the churches in Mahim, Sion, Vakola, and night vigils at the Portuguese church during Lent. I was all of 3 years old, and she carted me everywhere. Why she prayed so much I can't say, but I felt somehow she was trying to either atone for a lifetime of decadence or maybe she was just plain scared for her eternal soul.
During those times, the slow boring drawl of the priest and the drill of kneel-down, stand up, sit down, pray, sing, chant and repeat in unison would get to me. I would wander off into the nearby graveyard which most churches have adjacent to them. I would spend my time amongst those gravestones; marveling at the cherubs, angels, and floral tributes and verses carved in marble. "Who was this person ?" I wondered, and "what was the 'beloved family' like ?" I would try to calculate their age at the time of death using the Born and Died dates engraved.
Now when I think about those times, I find it weird that I spent so much time in those places. What an odd little boy I was ! Yet in a strange way, it has helped me look at death with eyes of curiosity rather than fear.
As the years passed there were a few more deaths of people I knew. It seems that as I got older, the frequency and proximity to me of the deceased grew. Until recently a few batch mates, the neighborhood tailor and most recently last evening's news; made me feel that death was just sitting around going "Tick-tack-toe, ….I take this !" and tapping on the guy who sat right beside me.
So does that scare me ? Not really. Funnily, it has an excitement to it. Its like playing Russian Roulette. You know the how, you just can't be sure of the when. Or even terminally ill people. The doctor tells them the how as well as a fair estimate of the when. And then they cry.
Ha! I say those people are actually lucky. They have a far better handle on it than the rest of us do. We just wait and wonder. We immerse ourselves in our lives assuming we'll live forever. And all the time, Death keeps going : "Inky Pinky Ponky…"
I now feel a renewed sense of urgency. To savour the sense of NOW. To live more fully in the present. And I ask myself, "if I were to die tomorrow, what would I do today ?".
After a long hard think, it comes down to a few phone calls, and a few hugs and kisses. Apologize to a few people, tell a few I loved them, and be kind, loving and gentle with my immediate family. And yes, publish this blog post hopefully. That’s it really.
No epic legacy. No big bang.
I wonder how many of his fans will remember Steve Jobs beyond the next Iphone model ?
