the end is the beginning is the end is the beginning
I have been thinking about death a lot lately. And not in a morbid or deeply depressing way. I am okay. In fact, can we just cut that shit out and normalize talking about death? How about this- you can only talk about death if you have experienced death, and we all have experienced death, so we all get the key to the goddamn town with a soapbox and a mic.
Done and done.
Okay, so back to thinking about death. My Dad’s 8th anniversary was 12/29. I was on a plane that day, traversing the country from a straight up magic family vacation, back home to Oahu from NY, by way of Seattle. I think I remembered, err, I think my body knew, but my brain was a bit distracted what with the 5000 or so miles of travel. While perusing the movies to watch, I ended up choosing a holiday movie- the last hurrah for a season well done. And what did I choose? The fucking Family Stone of course. I sobbed through my mask while my son watched Gumball on his iPad in the seat next to me.
The next plane ride, I re-watched Motorcycle Diaries and also cried.
It wasn’t till we landed and I checked FB on my phone that I remembered what the day was. Before he died, my daughter had proclaimed to my sisters and I that her Poppa would die on 12/28, so I often get the dates confused.
Back home, we recently finished Limitless, (come on, that last episode and the chief’s quotes on the beauty and gift of grief and death!!!), and Fleishman is in trouble. Holy Mary, mother of fuck. Libby’s speech at the end. And the last 2 episodes. So much grief and beauty in the flawed humanness that we all possess as we stumble through this one life, trying, trying our damndest to connect. Whether it is with ourselves, our inner child, a past version of self, the sunrise, a cool breeze, a piece of art, or a person you ignored from high school that turned out to be a gem of a human being, like in Somebody Somewhere.
Yes, I am referring to another show. I am a huge art nerd, and the writing in some of these shows nowadays is just so damn fantastic.
They all have to do with connection. And grief. Grief really is the mother of all emotions. Like an umbrella or roots of a tree, it is ever expansive and all encompassing. And, like the man’s proclamation from Limitless- grief is love. Or was it grief is beautiful? Same same?
I will say this- this feeling, this feeling means your heart works.
I would rather feel it all. Hands down. Every time.
I also stumbled on this quote by Stephen Jenkinson from an IG account:
“Maybe death and birth are like land.
It’s inconceivable that they could belong to anyone.
Maybe they are not our own.
They are entrusted to us for safe keeping.
They should be in better shape when we surrender them than when we assume them.”
And yet, AND YET, I have had many moments where I watch my soon-to-be teenage-aged daughter and observe my almost-two-digited son, and I am gutted with sadness, knowing that I won’t be there to witness it all. All the failures, the struggles, the accomplishments, the face-palm moments, and the moments they need me. It is a fact. I will not be there for all of it. Sometimes I fear this will come sooner than old age and I wonder- is this what middle age is all about? Reflection, contemplation, changing course, and making connection the end all be all of achievements? Or maybe it is just the anniversary, the shows, or the upcoming genetic testing I am about to embark on?
Maybe it is everything, everywhere all at once. (Hey, it is a fantastic movie and line)
So maybe our deaths are not ours- just entrusted to us for safe keeping, and if death and birth are alike in this way, then the end is the beginning is the end is the beginning.
