I wouldn't say I'm particularly preoccupied with death, exactly, but I do believe that to ignore or deny the, like, total omnipresent reality that is death is to do ourselves a major disservice. As they say, the only things certain in life are death and taxes, so we may as well accept them. Anyway, I think my main 'thing' about death is the ambiguity that often surrounds it. It's like, this happens so often, yet we are still riddled with so many unanswered questions in regards to it- such as, when will it happen? Why does it happen? Does it actually even mean anything, or is death just another random and chaotic facet of the human condition that Has To Happen To Us? And, most importantly, how do we best survive in a universe where important questions will almost always go unanswered?
Growing up, I was extremely uncomfortable with the word 'dead.' I legitimately wouldn't let anyone use it around me- I would correct them with 'died' or 'passed away'. I really didn't know why- I would just say that 'dead' sounded too harsh. They meant the same thing, but were somehow incredibly different. I didn't think too much into it, but then a handful of years ago I was watching a YouTube video analyzing The Catcher in the Rye (because that's the sort of thing teenage Amanda did for fun in all her free time, lol) a book that I absolutely loved, and still love- and there was a part that really jumped out at me.
If you've ever read this novel, you know that most of it is written in the past tense. There's one line that isn't. There's a paragraph where Holden is using the passive continuous voice, a thing used in writing to, like, distance the speaker from what he/she is saying, and he's like, "I was standing on the hill, and blah blah-" (WAS standing. Not 'I stood', but I was standing.) he rambles on using this passive voice for the remainder of the paragraph, talking about his brother's baseball glove, and then, abruptly- "he's dead now." A punch to the gut, a present tense sentence in a past tense novel. It is written this way intentionally. Not "he died." He Is. Dead. Now. Because death is eternally present tense. The dead don't just die- they remain dead- present tense dead, and that is how they effectively haunt us.
Another realization I've come to about death is that, although it is an entirely universal thing that happens - everyone dies, everyone knows a dead person- every single instance of it, and the way we individually react to it, is overwhelmingly unique. I spent many years being confused and even angry at the way my family operated in regards to my sister's death. They believed that being strong entailed being quiet, that 'dwelling' on grief would only intensify and prolong the healing process. For a while, I agreed with them (or tried to.) I don't anymore, and that's okay. We're both right in our completely opposite perspectives on grieving, because there is no wrong way.
However, despite the inherent uniqueness in the way we process these things, it is helpful to have found people who can express in the way that I do. I've seen this with many of my friends since Richard died 2 years ago. I was so used to not being able to comfortably talk about a dead person that it took me completely by surprise how easily we are able to speak about and remember him- in a good way. Erica and I will drive through the neighborhood that we all grew up in, and suddenly one of us will say, "remember that one time when Richard let us put a full face of makeup on him at my house?" Or someone laughs and Mel comments that it sounded like Richard's, or I can text Graeme or Lindsay or whoever on occasion and just say we miss him.
I don't know if I'll ever be able to comfortably and easily talk about my sister in that way, because we haven't for so long. I hope that one day I can see something and think of her randomly, and just say that out loud. But if not, it'll still be okay. I now believe that we can totally acknowledge the inevitability (and, frankly, shittiness) of death without giving in to hopelessness. We can survive in a universe where important questions often go unanswered, despite it not being ideal. Maybe we just counter those questions with more questions of our own, and that creates a bigger dialogue that we can somehow construe as meaning.
Although 'dead' is undeniably present tense, so are a lot of other things. Or at least, they can be. Like hope, or forgiveness, or whatever, as cheesy as that sounds. Nonetheless, I'm still learning. It's still all a mystery. But I'm thankful for the questions that she's given me. We miss you, Ash. Shouts out to you.
