Death is not a foreign concept. Having seen the things I’ve seen, and having been through the things I’ve experienced, one who knows of such things may assume – maybe even expect – me to be numb to the fear of death. In some ways, that assumption/expectation may not be completely off the mark.
I have witnessed the passing of both of my dear parents, a couple of beloved siblings taken far too young, a number of close and distant relatives, as well as several friends and acquaintances, to different circumstances. But surprisingly even all of that could not fully prepared me for the severe blow that was to come.
Some months ago, I had received the news of the passing of a friend. She had bravely fought, and then bravely lost, a battle against cancer – a word that holds the same horror-inducing taste as the word “death” – and had long since earned her place as one of the strongest people I know. She was a childhood friend, and the loss of her made me feel, shockingly enough, personally attacked.
Not that all the deaths I had witnessed prior to hers were not painful and heartbreaking, but losing someone who is of the same age, who shared a similar past and background, who was part of my life when I was only beginning to find my own footing as a shy teenager, and who was taken so tragically despite all efforts, was disorienting to say the least.
All deaths force us to look at our own mortality. With the rush of life the way it is, it is incredibly easy to lose oneself in work, family, problems, and relationships (don’t worry, this is natural, and even necessary to maintain happiness). The idea of an expiry date is unwanted and peculiar to this species that is so dedicated to rising above mediocrity and so addicted to the concept of “forever”.
Go ahead, ask yourself: When was the last time you said “forever”? Did you mean it? You may have to think twice, because it is human to not live to see forever, and that is the bittersweet beauty of it.
As the universally-loved Hollywood actor, Robin Williams once said: “Please, don’t worry so much. Because in the end, none of us have very long on this Earth. Life is fleeting. And if you’re ever distressed, cast your eyes to the summer sky when the stars are strung across the velvety night. And when a shooting star streaks through the blackness, turning night into day… make a wish … Make your life spectacular.”
This childhood friend of mine was there when the foundations of my person were still being laid out and slowly put together. We met in secondary school at age thirteen. We studied, joined the Debate and Drama clubs, played volleyball, went on long walks, and enjoyed outings with our social circle; and we did it all together. People stand as pillars against time, with their thoughts and memories. It is difficult to imagine that part of my life is now erased and non-existent.
But perhaps she isn’t completely gone. After all, she is the reason that pushed me into writing this, and she is the reminder that I must keep seeking experience and happiness. As another beloved Hollywood actor (hint: his first name is Will, and his last name is Smith) found out, the three main protagonists on this stage we call Life are Love, Time, and Death. Find Love (and not only romantic love), respect and abide by Time, and see Death as the conclusion to a beautiful life. I certainly intend to. I owe it to her.
