When Death Becomes Us.
When death becomes you, you will look back at old text conversations and replay the real ones in your head. And if you think hard enough, the rest of the world will fade away and you will hear her laugh as if she’s standing right in front of you. You will find every photo you ever took together and play back that day. You will look for signs and find ones that don’t actually exist. You will wonder why even though it shouldn’t matter and then you will think that you are more than human. That you are a savior, a magician, a superhero – someone that could’ve changed the hands of time.
You will reach out to people you barely talk to and tell them to call you if they need anything – anything. To drink, to laugh, to cry, to remain silent on the other end of the phone. Acquaintances will turn into friends, and you will hug them a few seconds longer than you normally would. You tell them you love them, and to keep in touch. That it’s a shame you had to reconnect under these circumstances. You make plans that you both know probably won’t happen, but both of you are OK with it.
You will hear her parents. The distinct and unfortunately familiar cries of a mother’s soul gasping for air. The raspy wails of her father’s heart breaking. You will lose your shit when they carry her out of the church with solemn faces following behind her. You will see beauty and pain and love and despair coexist in the same room. And that trick you do when you stare at the sky and force the tears to roll back into your eyes will not work as they lower her casket into the ground.
You will look for a reason to smile, maybe even laugh. You will almost feel happy seeing so many people there for her, doing the things she would’ve wanted everyone to do. You will feel an energy that can only be produced in a time of tragedy turned triumph rivaled by the numbness of only half believing what has happened. You will look around at the elderly, the children, and everyone in between and hear the buzzing of LIFE and remember that the hardest part about someone leaving us doesn’t even start until after the funeral.
When death becomes you, you feel all the feelings along with absolutely nothing at all. The things that didn’t matter as much now mean everything, and you let more than usual slide. You forget, and maybe even forgive. Text an old friend, help a stranger. You are grateful even if you don’t want to admit it to yourself. You are relieved. You are sorrow you are happiness. When the death of a loved one consumes you, you do a lot of things. But most of all – you live.