Death's Certainty

I don’t think people actually think about the very real possibility that just days from today they could be burying someone they love dearly….or they may be the one being buried. Death comes when it pleases. Sometimes it is expected. Sometimes it isn’t. Sometimes it is warranted. Sometimes it isn’t. Sometimes it is self inflicted. Sometimes it isn’t. Sometimes it is prepared for. Usually it isn’t. How do you prepare for death? How do you prepare for the death of a loved one? Is it even possible to? I’m not entirely certain either way. All I know is that it happens. It happens to everyone in their own way. And it effects everyone in a different way. Death. Death is as certain as…well…death may be the most certain thing there is. Life is not certain. The rising and setting of the sun is not certain. Food, jobs, love, breath, movement, those things are not certain. But death is. Death is certain for every single living creature/thing. So why the heck don’t people prepare for it? Why don’t people think about it often? Why is it so darned hard to face it? Why are people so shocked and confused when it happens? Why do people ask “Why?“ in the midst of grief? It is the most certain thing there is (in my opinion). Now, that certainty isn’t always easy to accept. And our human frailty, sinfulness, pride, lack of faith, selfishness, etc are those things that weaken us in the face it.

I ask these thing as one who struggles with this reality. I really didn’t know death until my grandfather died 10 years ago. He just died. He was 67 years old and he woke up in the middle of the night to get a drink of water and he collapsed in the kitchen. He died of an aneurysm. I didn’t go to his funeral, though looking back I probably should have. I just remember praying for him. Praying and praying and praying. And praying for my grandmother. Oh that woman is strong! Four years later we buried my great-grandmother. A dear dear friend she was. I was fortunate enough to have her so close growing up. She was my Grammy, as my other two grandmothers lived out of state and we didn’t see them much. And what a Grammy she was! Wow. Her passing was hard, but beautiful. Expected. She was ready. She was old…93 I think. She lived a long, good, loving life. And she died surrounded by her children. Her passing was a relief of sorts. But I miss her dearly. Which brings me to the most excruciating death I’ve experienced yet (aside from my 2 miscarriages). 18 short months after my Grammy passed away, my youngest brother was killed in a car accident. He was 25. Sudden deaths of young people I think bring on the most intense confusion, questioning, shock, grief. It’s not to say other deaths are not painful or less of a loss. But in my experience, it is those who pass with hardly any of their life lived that seem to leave the largest hole. One reflects on the possibilities lost, the life shortened, the “why” surfaces. And really there are no answers. To say that time heals all wounds sounds careless and maybe naive. But it is true to some degree. Stephen’s death, though in the moment seemed like an emotional hell at times and it was very very hard to see past the actual pain in the heart that it left our family, but over time we’ve all experienced a degree of peace. The pain is still there, it just isn’t as sharp and excruciating as it was 4 years ago. It is dulled a bit. But I reflect back on those days, weeks, months of fresh grief and I remember thinking “how in the world can we be happy again without him? How can we be a family without him?” Someone told me the real point of growth happens when a person can actually be grateful for the death of a loved one. I know! Grateful. I wanted to slap her! But she’s right. In hindsight I…we’ve seen and experienced many blessings, many fruits from his death. Like somehow God takes an unfortunate circumstance and turns it into good…blessings for everyone. Imagine that! People don’t think that can happen. But it can. I know this. My family knows this. More than once. You see, Stephen isn’t the first sibling I’ve lost. There was another boy between myself and Justin. He died of leukemia when he was just 22 months old (I was 4 months old). Somewhere in there, there was blessing and fruit…..my parents didn’t separate (though statistics say they should have) and they had Stephen shortly after. I remember my father saying that he isn’t sure he would have had the faith to answer a vocation to the deaconate had it not been for the struggle he and my mom went through after Ryan’s death. And right there I am grateful and I know they are too. As my dad is the most amazing Deacon in the Catholic Church. Truly a gifted man who has touched the lives of so many throughout his years as a deacon. God does amazing things through circumstances that seem to be tragic. Does tragedy even exist? People may look at Ryan’s death so young…happening to such young parents as being tragic. But look at the fruits. People may look at Stephen’s death at such a young age, leaving behind a wife and 2 young girls, and grieving (again) parents as tragic. But we have all grown and learned so much in the wake of his death. I, for one, have learned to love. Love without judgment. Love without expectation. Love and forgive. That is what Stephen’s death has taught me. So to say it was a tragedy is almost belittling it…robbing it of its beauty. Again, in the moment it is hard to see these things but in hindsight they are there. God is there. And God.Is.Good.

Today I attended a visitation service for a young woman I didn’t know. She was killed in a motorcycle accident on Labor Day. Her sister-in-law is Yvette’s preschool teacher. She was 25. It brought so much back. Please pray for her family. Her name is Mallie Ann Breuer and she is the only girl with 3 brothers…#3 in the family. Their family seems tight. Very loving. Very connected. Please pray for them.

I feel like there is more to say, but I can’t seem to find words. Perhaps later.