Death & Metamorphosis: How Death Made Me Live Again
Death, the black-cloaked, hooded, faceless creature of nightmares, has grazed past me with the brush of his boney-fingered caress. The shiver of his phantom caress remains as a reminder of the fragility and magic of life. I’ve seen the creature Death come in the form of the long, agonizing, creeping, slow, tortured death of cancer, consuming and eating away the beautiful body of a person I love and adore. Physical death is often described as an inevitable, universal process that will happen to all humans. Yet, knowing that death is inevitable for us all does not make the devastation of losing a loved one any easier. We fight death. Rail against death. Fear death. And yet, death is a vital part of life.
Death came for my best friend, “twin” sister, and soul-teacher in the form of breast cancer when she was only 39 years old. Before I talk about her death, though, I would love to tell you about her life. Noni and I became best friends in middle school when her family moved from California to Florida. We became instant sisters, laughing, giggling, and tripping awkwardly through our teen years. We used to tell people we were twins…and they believed us…which was hilarious to us because I was a shy, caucasian, dishwater blonde, and Noni was Black with dark, shiny hair and a smile that lit up the whole room. But to us, we were twins. We were kindred spirits. We…
