I was 7 or 8 when my first grandfather died. I remember feeding him ice cream out of those single-serving cups with the tiny plastic spoons. I was 18 when my other grandfather died. Well, he wasnt my biological grandfather, but he was good at it. He snuck me a fistful of dollars now and then when no one was looking. He gave a sly look in my direction when everyone else around was being over-dramatic. He hugged me. He loved me. I think hed been up to trouble and had his share of heartbreak and regret well before I knew him. He seemed to find some contentment in doing what he could for my grandmother and this adopted family, without getting into the drama. I was in the hospital room when he died. Ill never forget those moments. He was breathing, staying alive, laboriously, with help from whatever machines and tubes were attached to him. Then, a few longer-than-usual breathes. Then... His last. Ive read accounts of dying breathes, from those who have witnessed them, to those who have imagined them. Im familiar with the term death rattle. Whatever you want to describe it as, his last breath was different than the rest - even those who had come in the minutes before. The inhalation was labored like those, but the exhalation was something entirely different. It was as is a balloon had been deflated - but more than that, unlike a balloon flapping around, it felt heavy. *** Last night I woke up at 3AM. No air conditioning, hot, miserable. I grabbed my phone and played a few games were all familiar with. Then I checked my Facebook. One of my friends had posted a leaked image of Robin Williams dead body. Actually, I think it was a video. But I didnt watch it. The still image was haunting enough. Its now seared into my minds eye. And Ive been haunted by it all day. Maybe it was photoshopped, maybe it was real. I dont know and I dont really care to look it up and find out. It was haunting. Awful. *** I watched a man die in peace on his deathbed and it was haunting. I cannot imagine the horror of those who have seen death in combat, through violence, and even - God bless them - the morticians and medical examiners who see this every day. I am reminded of the art critic Peter Berger who, upon reading, made me realize - it seems so obvious now - that life, no matter how much we try to construct order around is awful, chaotic, dangerous - nature, for all its wonder and beauty is awful, chaotic and dangerous, and we are often at its mercy. I posted earlier this week the quote from David Foster Wallace about how suicide is akin to the trapped office worker with fire at their door jumps instead of being burned alive. In either case, the death is horrific. Hard to see. Hard to see a dead body. In my experience, its hard even with a person in relative peace surrounded by friends and loved ones. Death is inevitable, tragic, and very, very ugly to witness. If it is naïveté or wishful thinking in the end, so be it. I believe the shedding of this mortal coil is not the end.
Posted on: Sun, 17 Aug 2014 03:40:57 +0000
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