Mourning Death Is Selfish, Let’s Get Our Goodbyes Right

The one truly universal act we’ve been doing all wrong

Have you ever experienced the joy of achieving a significant milestone during a journey? When I used to run marathons, I would feel the joy at every mile or kilometer marker and experience the thrill of being one step closer to the destination.

But the true jubilation and adrenalin rush always came in that last mile. Better still, in those last 100 meters where I would invariably dash to the finish line even if I was completely out of fuel. Of course, only to fall flat on my back right after the finish line.

Screw all the wisdom about cooling down gradually because it can’t compare to spending your last bit of energy in hitting the finish line at top speed.

If you’re not a runner and can’t relate, you must have surely made a road trip or a journey to some destination at some point in your life. Remember the joy of finally getting there? None of the milestones on the way are as satisfying, are they?

What about your life? How excited were you and everyone around you on that last birthday of yours? Did you celebrate with family or friends or another loved one? A birthday is really just a milestone in the journey of life, isn’t it?

What, then, is the destination? Of course, it is death.

We are all running our own race towards the eventuality of death. Isn’t it ironic then that we celebrate every other destination, but mourn the ultimate one?

That is grossly counter-intuitive, yet one of the most universal practices that there is. When was the last time you heard about a death? What did you say? Probably, some version of “I am so sorry to hear that.” Or, “I am sorry for your loss.”

Why not “Hoorah! Congratulations, that is amazing news!” You must think that is absolutely obnoxious of me to even suggest.

Or, is it?

We mourn death to cope, not for the dead

Think about the last funeral you went to. What was the mood like? Sad and solemn? In all likelihood. The only calm and peaceful and hopefully happy body in that gathering was likely the only one that was no longer breathing.

Why is the rest of the world mourning then? When a loved one accomplishes something, we celebrate with them. But this one final time when they achieved their biggest accomplishment yet, we choose to mourn? Just because this is the one time they aren’t with us to remind us to celebrate?

We mourn because that is the easiest response to our own emotions. Our feeling of loss and betrayal even — how could they move on to another world and leave us behind? How could they reach the final destination before we did?

Well, because that’s life. You can walk together for as long as you like until you can’t.

Death is the final act, let it be about the person

The honorable thing to do is to celebrate life to mark its final chapter — death.

A death should be a celebratory act of remembering the wonderful life that the deceased lived. To relive the finest of moments once more so they can cement their place in our memories just that much more, and for that much longer.

Is it easy? Of course not. It couldn’t be easy to smile and laugh and celebrate the day you have just lost a parent, a child, a partner, a friend, or another loved one. But the right thing to do is seldom the easy thing to do.

If you think about the real host of the funeral — the one who isn’t around for their own celebration except as a lifeless piece of mass in a coffin, or as an urn full of ashes, it would be the only befitting final tribute.

We owe it to them, this one last time.

Like one of my favorite Hindi songs summarizes in a beautiful way (loosely translated into English),

“I want to die such that life can stand tall on my grave with its head held high, and a smile on its face.”

Let’s make sure the final act is worthy of the life and legacy they leave behind.