Time Passages
My uncle died last night.
He was 94, and it wasn't a shock, as he had fallen recently and events since then just all seemed to point to this ending. Hey, death is the end of living; it's inevitable. Whether you are ready for it or not, it will happen.
But as I was talking to his granddaughter, my cousin's daughter, it occurred to me that bad events are often eased by a little bit of warning time.
Whether it's a death or a life-changing event, having some lead-up time makes it easier. It gives you time to accept the inevitable and prepare, emotionally, for it. It's probably better to acknowledge that and deal with it in the time you have, rather than have the rug pulled out from under you all at once.
When my girlfriend's husband died at age 52, there was no warning. Her shock probably lasted a good year. He had never had a "first" heart attack. He wasn't ill. He just went to bed fine, woke up, worked out, didn't feel well, called the ambulance, died. Gone in a blink.
In Uncle Leo's case, he has been in the ICU for over a week now, and had been in rehab before that, and in the hospital before that... so there was a build up. A time of expectation, planning, considering. At some point, each of my cousins had to have said to his or herself, Dad is 94. He wouldn't, in the best of circumstances, have that much time left. It's going to happen. I have to prepare myself.
At the opposite end of death is life. When a baby is born, it is more than life-changing. It's not a quite passage, as is death, it is a noisy, rollicking, cataclysmic bungee jump into an entirely new kind of life. But you have months to prepare for it. Months to consider all the options, all the preparations, all the things that need doing. So as wild a ride as it is, your seatbelt is already on.
When someone is suddenly fired from a job, it is similar in feeling to a death. But if there were signs.... bad reviews, stern conversations behind closed doors, whispers... then there is the build up of expectation. You start to think "what if..." and you start to prepare.
Over a year ago, we found out we were moving to Wisconsin. For the first week, my gut was in turmoil. I couldn't even think of telling my family. I had to sort my own mind out first. Over the next few months, I started to get used to the idea. As I usually do, I looked for the positive parts of the move, built up some interest in the foreign land we are going to, started considering the options that would make it fun. By the time the house went on the market, I was prepared to forge ahead.
Of course, the longer it took, the more my emotions backslided (backslid?) into denial, and I started to get comfortable with this strange new reality -- that my house is more like a hotel than a home, that my husband and I live apart most of the time, that I am still ensconced with family and friends while he is creating a new life away from me.
The passage of time, I suppose, is not any more predictable than any other part of life.
He was 94, and it wasn't a shock, as he had fallen recently and events since then just all seemed to point to this ending. Hey, death is the end of living; it's inevitable. Whether you are ready for it or not, it will happen.
But as I was talking to his granddaughter, my cousin's daughter, it occurred to me that bad events are often eased by a little bit of warning time.
Whether it's a death or a life-changing event, having some lead-up time makes it easier. It gives you time to accept the inevitable and prepare, emotionally, for it. It's probably better to acknowledge that and deal with it in the time you have, rather than have the rug pulled out from under you all at once.
When my girlfriend's husband died at age 52, there was no warning. Her shock probably lasted a good year. He had never had a "first" heart attack. He wasn't ill. He just went to bed fine, woke up, worked out, didn't feel well, called the ambulance, died. Gone in a blink.
In Uncle Leo's case, he has been in the ICU for over a week now, and had been in rehab before that, and in the hospital before that... so there was a build up. A time of expectation, planning, considering. At some point, each of my cousins had to have said to his or herself, Dad is 94. He wouldn't, in the best of circumstances, have that much time left. It's going to happen. I have to prepare myself.
At the opposite end of death is life. When a baby is born, it is more than life-changing. It's not a quite passage, as is death, it is a noisy, rollicking, cataclysmic bungee jump into an entirely new kind of life. But you have months to prepare for it. Months to consider all the options, all the preparations, all the things that need doing. So as wild a ride as it is, your seatbelt is already on.
When someone is suddenly fired from a job, it is similar in feeling to a death. But if there were signs.... bad reviews, stern conversations behind closed doors, whispers... then there is the build up of expectation. You start to think "what if..." and you start to prepare.
Over a year ago, we found out we were moving to Wisconsin. For the first week, my gut was in turmoil. I couldn't even think of telling my family. I had to sort my own mind out first. Over the next few months, I started to get used to the idea. As I usually do, I looked for the positive parts of the move, built up some interest in the foreign land we are going to, started considering the options that would make it fun. By the time the house went on the market, I was prepared to forge ahead.
Of course, the longer it took, the more my emotions backslided (backslid?) into denial, and I started to get comfortable with this strange new reality -- that my house is more like a hotel than a home, that my husband and I live apart most of the time, that I am still ensconced with family and friends while he is creating a new life away from me.
The passage of time, I suppose, is not any more predictable than any other part of life.