Death and the Sunflower
A few thoughts on Life and Death.
Last month my mother died and two days before her my dearest companion, my 18-year-old cat, died at home in front of me. Suffocating. My mother died at an end-of-life facility. Thankfully, she died in her sleep and I saw her the day before. She was so weak that she couldn’t really talk. But we looked at each other for a long time. And mentally I was sending her a message that it was okay to go. That night, or early morning, she passed peacefully.
Then a few days ago I heard that the 20 year old son of a good friend died in a freak accident while kayaking in Norway.
What a couple of months!
So, when someone dies, you grieve and we all grieve in different ways. But if you think that you will have time and space to grieve, think again. Because when someone dies, you, as the survivor, may have to deal with the admin side of death. I am the only one who could do that for my mother.
I had to (still have to) deal with the administrative side of death in three countries, in three languages! And some of all of this is very insensitive, or, at best, annoying. You just have to laugh or go mad. Sometimes, I feel like I want to either send a letter back, unopened, with a “New Address” on it.
“Mrs. N. Zvelebil, C/O God, The heavens above, 11100, Cloud 8. Sky.
Or to the place that demanded a meeting with my deceased mother — I felt like sending some ashes. “Here you go, here is my mother”.
Okay those are the worst, but there are so many forms to fill, places to phone, things to stop, it is incredible how complicated death becomes.
So, when do you grieve? For me it is in the quiet, unexpected, moments. Often when I walk the dog. Or in the evening just before going to bed, as now there is no mother (or cat) to say goodnight to.
In these moments the grief hits you like a hammer, and an electric shock travels down your body into your soul tearing it apart in agony. Then a good memory comes and heals the pain, but a wound does remain. I am sure that with time it will get less painful. But that emptiness will always remain. And so, I come to the photo that I posted above…a photo I took yesterday and that to me describes the many facets of grief that I am going through at the moment, and I think anyone who has lost, someone they love, do too.
The sunflower — such a beautiful flower, giving so much to other beings; insects and birds as well as humans. It loves the sun, turning it’s face towards that life giving star. And then, after a week or two it starts getting old. Like us it starts losing it’s perfect beauty — but becomes beautiful in it’s ageing. It continues to give even in its last days. And then it slowly dies — and even in death (Photo above) it is beautiful.
But in death it is showing grief, grief at the loss of life, grief that life is so short, grief and regret that we haven’t done everything we wanted, said all the things that were left unsaid, and said some things that would better have been unsaid.
The sunflower illustrates to me the speed that life passes by and through my current grief tells me to go and make the most of my time left here. Go and see the people that I love. Do as many (good) things as possible and live. Really live each day. Don’t let life be full of regrets.
