As I contemplate death and dying
Death comes closer as I get older as each phone call or announcement on Facebook reminds me that I am not promised today or tomorrow
Death comes quiet and loud and not always like a specter in the night
No certain age welcomes it because it comes when it likes and it takes what it wants
So what to do until it comes for me?
Do I wait in anticipated silence or harrowing fear or do I simply live until it knocks on my door?
This is not a poem about hope. This is not even a poem. This is space on paper for me to contemplate my deepest thoughts, fears, hopes, and questions
As I contemplate death and dying, I also think of grief and the act of grieving
Grieving does not simply begin and end. It does not only come with physical loss. It also arrives and seeps into my soul with spiritual and love loss. It slides into my heart after perceived loss
The loss of art. The loss of music. The loss of creativity. The loss of laughter. The loss of joy. The loss of ease that I never experienced. The loss of laughing like nobody is looking, that reminds me of my childhood, a wide open mouth with teeth missing while waiting for the Tooth Fairy kind of laugh. I grieve because it seldom comes anymore
So we, I, want to shout about loss, death, grief, and grieving. Tears that come so easily now.
Is that age?
Does growing older make crying easier? I know it makes me less worrisome about what others think and certainly lessens the burden of trying because all the while I have been doing and doing is all that matters.
Is that age?
That makes the death of close friends and family arrive like stones or soft flowers on your doorstep more often and closer together without warning or pretense because we know that we are born and we all die. I was born and I will die.
As I contemplate death and dying
Love comes to mind. Being loved and loving others. Love and hurt. Love and joy. Love and kindness. Love and laughter. Love given, love received, and kisses on my face
That intimate love that some of us still fear or need to come in a certain way. So much so that we miss the opportunity to experience orgasmic emotion that makes you scream with your mouth wide open. My heart is full knowing that has happened more than once and is still possible. No matter the appearance or the right of it. Just me being me
As I contemplate death and dying
I rushed to find my laptop, my paper, and the words…and the words flowed from my fingers like warm caramel onto cold vanilla ice cream…sweet and sweeter…on my tongue and teeth
Yes, I contemplate death and dying because it has been coming to my door more and more so at times I cry for no reason and I do not hold back
I do not hold back and I have no questions but I still question
Just crying and laughing out loud through the tears as my mind asks what is next for me
