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The world has recently and collectively experienced the loss of several amazing celebrities. As we learned of each passing we were immediately hit with yet another death announcement and sometimes that person was of even greater popularity so that the previous person was left without a proper send-off. Or so it seemed. I don’t think we were being cruel but being a celebrity is a popularity game even in death. Karl Malden and Ed McMahon, for example, did not receive the proper send-off they would have had they not been overshadowed by Farrah and Michael. And it just kept coming, most recently as of this writing, Walter Cronkite.
During this same exact period three deaths occurred in my circle of friends. I know that is the case with hundreds of thousands of other people around the world. Our TVs were blaring with the loss bombardment of our great celebrities and at the same time many of us were dealing with the loss of our own family and friends.
Sometimes loss is handled well, as painful as it may be, by those left behind. If loved ones and friends have lived long, full lives, doing what they enjoyed doing, it is sad but manageable for family and friends when their loved ones die. We know that’s the way of life. Those of us with religious beliefs receive some comfort knowing our loved ones are going to a better place—depending on their behavior on the earthly plane (with a last minute request for forgiveness if time allows).
Humans are the only creatures on the planet that know they are going to die. Other animals instinctively try not to get injured but they do not know death is coming. They simply have an instinct to protect themselves. Humans are also a mostly cautious species and we try our best to drive safely, look around when we are out and about for signs of danger, and some of us avoid ladders and black cats. Whatever we do as we go through life, tucked away in the back of our brains is the “warning” light keeping us safe. That light doesn’t work well with terminal illness that creeps up on us, but we do have things we can do even then to prevent some of the nasty illnesses from stalking us like hungry tigers.
Wild animals go through life looking for food and seeking safe shelter. They are aware of death on a very primitive level either caused by them (predators) or they find themselves on the receiving end (prey). Sometimes they observe the death of members of their society. How they process that information is more of a warning about their own safety. Some are distressed at the loss of an offspring or mate because of their strong instinct to maintain the species, perhaps even sad according to some studies. Loss is a powerful emotion. Elephants come to mind as possibly one other species that may understand, to some extent, when it is time to die. I recall a few documentaries about whales as well. Sometimes a wounded or sick animal goes off to hide and die but some theories suggest they go off to recover and/or to be safe when vulnerable.
Over my 64 years I have experienced many deaths of family and friends and celebrities. That daunting experience increases as we age and with each loss we take pause to look at our own lives and wonder about our own mortality. I have always had a realistic and comfortable outlook on my eventual passing, but prefer to be in my 90s, in bed, with a Margarita in one hand and a cigarette in the other.
Blissfully, I believe, a friend of mine recently did die in bed. My grandmother always said that’s what she wanted and at 91 she almost made it but instead she had to be hospitalized and spent an uncomfortable number of months dying and hating being there and begging to go home. This was very difficult for my grandmother and even more difficult for her daughter, my mother. I always hated that she couldn’t have had her wish to die in bed. Don’t we all. But my friend did just that a few weeks ago and we were all weirdly comforted. We thought he might die at work because he loved to be at work and we didn’t want that for him or for his coworkers. We wanted private peace and dignity for him because he was a man of peace and dignity and a great presence in the world.
Next, another friend, who was a dear companion to one of my childhood friends, died away from home and in fact, in another state. He became ill, was taken to a hospital, and died, all within a relatively short period of time, far away from his cozy home. He had a wonderful little place surrounded by trees and shrubs and winding paths here in California. Why couldn’t he have died there? How we end is more painful for our family and friends than the actual passing. A peaceful passing under the right circumstances and in the right place eases mourning to a great extent. My dad was only 38 when he died after a long, agonizing stay in a hospital like my grandmother. No one wants that.
And finally, the third loss in my life at the very same time as the celebrities and two friends—the passing of a friend’s little dog of ten years. I knew this dog from the time she was a puppy when she joined my friend’s family. For those of us who love and lose pets, it is a painful ordeal. At the beginning, the expectation of fewer years to be with our beloved pets does help a little at the end. We know we will only have them for a few years when we sign on, but sometimes pets are taken too young, just like humans. Ten years wasn’t long enough for this little dog whose life expectancy for her breed is longer than that. However, she succumbed to cancer and it’s hard to beat cancer at any age--for humans too. She was lucky because she was able to die at home with her family and with the kind attention of a mobile veterinarian. Humans are not so lucky.
I’ve spent a lot of time these past few weeks thinking of all of those human and non-human family and friends who have gone before me and I’m sad for all of us. I’ll snap out of it because I have to and because these passings are inevitable. All we can do is live a good life, hug our family, friends, and pets, and when we one day leave them, know we made them happy.
“Let us endeavuor so to live that when we come to die even the undertaker will be sorry.” Mark Twain
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