Living and Dying

Oh, man. Human beings are so heartbreaking. So dear. So capable of taking all stupid “head” thoughts from your mind and plunging you like an anvil into a bucket, sort of a drop-kick without you knowing what hit you. You just get so touched by the way people want to live, especially when they’re facing the end of life, whether certain or probable. Whether it’s in Haiti or closer to Home, it is personally wrenching. You want each one to have a peaceful end…and middle…and beginning.

It feels more personal closer to home, but when you are wondering about end-of-life issues and a tragedy on the scale of that taking place in Haiti is going on at the same time, you can’t help but feel a connection. It almost makes you feel as if all the things you deal with in a safe and sane environment – all the decisions and planning for end of life –it almost makes them seem a little senseless. Death comes when it comes, and in the way it comes, with few of us having any choice in the matter…by which I mean that the way it goes when you’ve planned for it, no matter how carefully, isn’t usually the way it ends up.

The other night I had to go out for an appointment in the evening, which is fairly rare for me. The roads had been bad a few days before but it had warmed up a little and the snow had been cleared. I drove to my appointment without incident. On the way home, going over a bridge, I hit a patch of black ice. My car floated out of one lane and into the next. There was no feeling of swerving, just a smooth, and totally uncontrollable drift. It happened so fast that I didn’t even have time to panic. I didn’t at least, jerk the wheel or do any of those things you can do to make it worse. Luckily, it happened at a time of day when the traffic wasn’t thick. The person behind me in the next lane honked, kept her/his distance, and in a moment I was able to return to my lane…heart pounding…but otherwise unscathed.

Later, I got to noticing how people talked – how “the city” should keep the roads clear. I started thinking about how we get to expect that everything that inconveniences us; that every danger; that every freak of nature; can somehow be controlled by good planning and implementation of sound measures.

And then something happens that is unexpected. Katrina happens. Haiti happens.

I’d been wondering if you can transition into readiness for death while you’re still hopeful for life, and seeing the difference in that period of “fighting” and the one that comes of acceptance – whether the acceptance is because of a diagnosis; because something in you makes you too tired for the struggle; because there’s no hope of help coming; or because a greater peace has been bestowed. But the general thing about acceptance is that it’s about something that’s bigger than you…bigger than your will or your determination or your resources.

It all swirls around with the poignancy of loving people individually and collectively, as they live and as they die. Sometimes the focus is on how you die. Sometimes that focus brings attention to how you live. Sometimes it brings basic human dignity to the forefront – for the living and the dying – .