As a therapist people think I have a solid grasp on life and all its complexities, well I don't. I am just as confused by war, suffering, injustice and hate as anyone else. I see sorrow and want to make it right. I see pain and want to make it go away. I see tears and I want to dry them. When there is injustice...well, you get the picture. It's just the way I am wired. For the most part I can handle most situations because there is always an opposite reaction to use as a proverbial crutch...right vs. wrong, pain vs. healing, starvation vs. fed. But when it comes to life vs. death...it's the saying goodbye that trips me up.
For me, my compassion turns to a form of extreme empathy...
What was their last thought?
Did they suffer?
Were they cold, hungry, scared?
Did they know they were loved?
Then my empathy turns to a form of self torture...
What could I have done differently?
Did they know I loved them?
What were my last words to them?
What role did I play in the loss of this life?
Death is no stranger to me, in fact death introduced herself to me early on in my life and for the most part has been a regular visitor. From childhood friends, classmates, teachers...to various family members, colleagues, friends, derby girls, pets (who are family) and clients.
You'd think with all this death that I would get used to it, that it would somehow desensitize me. Leaving me numb to its cold hallow touch. But death doesn't work like that, and for the last week I have suffered the loss of someone...a genuinely sweet soul. Patient, funny and ever so gentle. A soul that was tortured and is now free to be at peace. So I take this moment to celebrate him and his life and the knowledge that this world is a better place for having him in it and that heaven is blessed to have him now. So goodbye my friend. May your soul be at rest and may the rest of us left behind eventually find peace in your absence.
