Recently, my grandmother died. It was a shock. One day she was alive and sending out holiday cards, and the next, she wasn’t. I couldn’t visit her anymore. I couldn’t show her my new girlfriend. There would be no more trips to visit her, or afternoon tea.
It hurts to know that she’s gone. That I will never do any of those things with her again. I’ dredge up all the ways she touched my life, and flog myself with them. Why didn’t I spend more time with her? Why didn’t I go visit her? Every missed opportunity is another lash. I could’ve had more time with her, but chose to do other things.
But death shouldn’t be unexpected,
My grandmother was ninety eight. I looked at an actuary table for her last year. The median life expectancy of a ninety seven year old female was 2.7 years. And when I saw that I thought, I need to go visit her within the next couple of years. I knew she didn’t have long to live. But I always expected it to be longer. I was informed. I knew how long people her age typically lived. I assumed that she would make it at least 2.7 years. I mistook my knowledge as a guarantee. Having a median life expectancy of about three years means that half of the time, she would die before three years. I knew this to be true. But in my mental arithmetic, that would happen to someone else’s grandmother.
Because when it’s unexpected, it hurts the most.
It hurts to lose time with my granny. But worse is the criticism I level at myself. I didn’t visit her as often as I should have. And when I did visit, I spent time doing other things. Were things like reading books, or exercising as valuable as more time with my grandmother? I don’t think so now. But I did so then. Not in the lip service way we give to things we know are important, but in the way that matters most, my actions. I acted like my grandmother would be around forever. That’s what hurts the most.
Death is an excellent companion.
Everything around me is fragile and limited. Waves drifting across the sea of time. Roiling with vigor one moment, and gone the next. Sometimes I truly understand that, and appreciate the ephemeral beauty of my fellow humans.
And rarer still, sometimes I appreciate that I am human too. That one moment I will be gone. And that I should value my time appropriately. Because one day I will look back on my actions, and judge them with the perspective of my entire life.
Death is an excellent companion, because it allows you to see the world as it truly is. Knowing that things will not last, helps me to value the things that matter, and ignore that which does not.
But what about you?
Have you experienced a loss recently? Has it changed your perspective?