Life's Ultimate End

Death.

It might most probably be that I’m a Christian that I do not fear the subject of death. It might also be that I have the most beautiful idea of what Death looks like, thanks to Sandman, that I am at peace with the idea of having to inescapably meet her in the end. She is the coolest of the Endless (comprised of seven anthropomorphic beings) after all, in character and judgment, unlike the mercilessly cloaked and scythe-wielding counterpart of death’s more popular depictions. She is portrayed to just be there when something or someone dies. A lifespan is not hers to dictate. She is there like an usher to lead the dead to the after-place or a guide sent to tour and make the dead feel at ease with the transition to something beyond life.

Sure, it is fiction but it is somewhat assuring to face something scary if the idea is conveyed to us in a fairly subtle, thus, acceptable, manner. By Death being perky, attractive, intelligent, young, level headed, fashionable, and cool has made me look at death in a more positive light. I do not crave the experience, not by a thousand light years, so don’t get me wrong. I love life, with or without love-life, and I would wish to have more years on my lifetime than the average human being, with fairly heightened intellect and healthy internal organs to sustain me in the years to come.

I pondered on the idea of why most people fear death and personally came up with several notions:

1. Fear of the unknown
2. Anxiety of leaving family, friends, and loved ones behind
3. Unable yet to experience a host of many possible things in life
4. Greater personally-set expectations which one still hopes to live up to in a lifetime
5. A lifetime led ordinarily hoping the years would bring about excitement
6. Weak spirituality
7. Wishing to correct mistakes made in the past
8. Absolution from those whom we have done wrong
9. Not really giving the subject much thought thus giving the person some vague and scary notion which could be traced back to reason #1
10. Loose-ends here and there

I could not offer any general consolation on the matter. As I have said before, I am no psych-major. Having a fairly acceptable idea on why most people fear death is as good a start as any in making us loosen up and enjoy life rather than dread its end. Here’s an idea that somewhat rang true, at least for me: what if we liken life to an abandoned fully-furnished house that some thief had discovered. For months of careful observation, the thief had quite certainly established that the house is a goldmine waiting to be abused. The thief goes in the house and steals one valuable thing at a time, at his own leisure. As the days go by, the thief had sacked the place until one day where there is nothing left to take. I like this analogy better than the more popular "like a thief in the night" story where the thief just takes everything else with him in one swoop. By this analogy, an ultimate death where the heart stops beating is a result of days or years of small deaths until the big whooping one.

There was this episode in Sandman, from issue #42 if I’m not mistaken, on a man of several hundred years old dying from an accident while he was nonchalantly walking along the sidewalk as some wall or debris fell on his thin frame. The apparition of the man’s soul rose from the rubble. At first he thought he had survived yet again. But a very attractive young woman approached him and said it was time for him to take her hand. The man said something on living so many hundreds of years and not one single moment thinking that it would end in an unglamorous manner as dying on falling debris. Death, who happened to be the very attractive young woman, replied, “you get what everyone else gets: you get a lifetime. No more, no less.”

I met someone I knew from childhood, our neighbor, and my sister Zhan's grade school classmate, in Glorietta yesterday. His intro was, "nabalitaan mo na? Ang Nanay..."

Of course I knew at the back of my mind that he was about to say his mom died but I acted all naïve. I did not know Aling Chit suffered from breast cancer until Ford answered my question on the cause of her death. She was my youngest sister's god mother. I remember her teaching and practically doing her children's assignments while they were in grade school. She is soft spoken, helpful, caring, and responsible. She is an accountant by profession, just like me, but she chose to practice on her own, running her one-man firm alone thereby contributing much to seeing her children off to college.

"Bakit? Anong nangyari?"

"Wala na sya. Kahapon ang libing. Kayo lang ang walang representative doon."

"Paano?"

"Yung dating breast cancer nya."

"Naku, pasensya na. Di ko talaga alam. Di nakarating sa akin ang balita."

"Ok lang, di ka naman namin nasabihan kasi naiwala ko number mo. Sinabihan nga ako ng Ate. Sorry din."

“I’m sorry for your loss. Sasabihan ko na rin ang Nanay, di rin nun alam, sigurado.”

“Thank you. Andito nga rin pala ang Tatay at ang Ate, nagiikot lang.”

“Pasabi na rin sa kanila na ibabalita ko nalang sa amin. My sympathies, Ford.”

It was with that conversation in mind that I decided to write about death. Or Death, rather.

Rest easy, Aling Chit.

posted by Fritz @ 9:39 PM