The Opening of a Window

How to Cope with Death

My grandfather was dying.

What started as mere back pain turned into cancer.

It started in his spine, consuming what it wanted.

And when that was no longer enough, it spread to his brain, slowly but surely eating away at who he was as a person, leaving only his brittle body and weathered soul.

For his last chapter of life, he was placed in hospice, a dignified way of comforting those on their way to the next journey.

I remember it like yesterday.

I was parched.

The mixture of the summer heat and emotional discombobulation had me thirsty.

I stepped out of his room, turned right, and made my way down the long corridor.

Five doors down into my walk, a brittle voice spoke out,

“Excuse me, can you open this window for me?”

There, this fragile woman sat next to a window with an innocent smile on her face.

“Of course,” I replied, opening the window, exiting the room, and turning left toward the water fountain.

That night, my father, brother, and I stayed with my grandfather.

It was a last-ditch effort to spend more time with him, trying to have a memory we could keep while he was still here.

It was a night of helplessness and anxiety.

At 15, I knew nothing about cancer.

But I quickly bore witness to its cataclysmic effects that night.

When he wasn’t asking for ice chips or arching his back in pain, he was screaming,

“The Grim Reaper’s here! The Grim Reaper’s here!”

The pain.

The agony.

The sadness.

Into the early morning hours, he eventually fell asleep, and so did we.

The following day, we learned that the elderly woman who I opened the window for had passed away in her sleep.

Coming to Terms with Death

My grandfather would die a few weeks later in his sleep.

My father (his son) was sitting next to him when he moved on.

He described feeling this sudden urge, knowing he had passed.

A single tear ran down his cheek after he died.

Death is a funny thing.

We’re all born to die.

There’s no cheating our way out of it.

We can’t bribe anyone or modify ourselves to completely escape it.

We may delay it, but it’s coming whether we like it or not.

You’ve got to respect its persistence.

Many fear death.

They fear the unknown.

They fear what bad things may or may not be waiting on the other side.

They fear being alone and away from those they love.

I fear death, too.

However, 14 years after my first-hand experience with it, I’ve come to terms with death.

Death is Not an End But a Beginning

I’ve learned not to see death as an end, but a beginning.

I don’t know what happens after we die; no one does.

That’s the whole point of life.

However, I like to think that we do not merely cease to exist (and if we do, that really has no real effect on us).

I like to think that our soul continues its journey of life, taking the experiences and wisdom we collect on Earth with it.

Throughout our lives, things come and go. Chapters in our lives end so that new ones may begin. A leaf falls from a tree, dies, and becomes dirt to feed life into new plants.

I like to think that our death merely imitates what happens in life.

We’re born. We die. Our souls go on.

Life is Short by Design

There are those who wish to live forever, investing millions of dollars into their health and research to find immunity.

And while that sounds great in theory, I consider it a mistake.

Life is short by design.

If you live in the US, you have roughly 77.28 years to live.

A mere grain of sand in the sand dune of Earth’s history.

The shortness of life serves a purpose, to force us to live it.

If we had all the time in the world, there would be no urgency to explore.

Life would lose its magic.

And the purpose would dull.

Death serves the purpose of reminding us that we aren’t here forever, so we should make the most of it.

Within the Mystery of Life Lies Our Purpose

Our existence is a mystery.

One day, we’re randomly born into this world without any say.

We’re born, we live, we die.

While many argue over what or who created all this, we truly have no concrete evidence.

Life is a mystery.

But in that mystery lies our purpose.

And our purpose in life is ours to decide.

It’s ours to venture out and find.

It’s ours to explore, make mistakes, and uncover or redefine as we wish.

And death is there to tell us to keep searching.

Be Grateful You’re Here

My grandfather’s death was the first and, by far, the hardest death I’ve had in my life.

To this date, I haven’t cried nearly as hard as I did at his funeral.

And while death has the ability to send us into a spiral of turmoil and depression, it also reminds us to be grateful for the life we have.

Our chances of being born are slim, one in 400,000,000,000,000 (that’s 400 quadrillion).

In percentages, that’s 0.000000000000001%

Life is a miracle, and so are you.

So many factors had to line up for you to exist.

But because they did, we get to enjoy all the beautiful things life provides.

Move with the Flow of Life and Death, Not Against it.

Death has the ability to paralyze us.

The fear of the unknown can leave us shaking in our boots.

However, I’ve learned the best way to cope with it is to move with its flow rather than against it.

Within death lies meaning and purpose.

And much like all of life, we choose what meaning and purpose it serves.

Instead of fearing and fighting death, we must celebrate and go with it.

If life is Ying, then death is Yang, and both balance each other out.