On Death and Dying

Yes, I've stolen that title from Elizabeth Kubler-Ross. My insights are not as profound as her's. I can't tell you how to get through these times or how to deal with the loss. I'm not sure it's possible to get over death of a friend or a lover. I can only tell you there are no rules or timetables.

This week a close friend of my friend, Billy, was taken by breast cancer. I didn't know her well, but I hurt for Billy and his wife and their friends. The young women who died was in her thirties.

On Saturday, I will be attending a party for my friend, Mas. He was 32 and was killed in a car accident a month ago. Our whole community is reeling from the loss. He was a warm and wonderful young man. I knew his fiance before she was with him and watched her bloom as he loved and supported her.

In the last 15 months I lost my best friend, Janice, my mom and now Mas. My daughter lost Janice, who she knew and loved her whole life, her grandmother, her husband's grandmother and his aunt. Janice's family lost Doug's mother and a close school friend of Dylan's within a few months of Janice's death. Billy lost his best friend, Jen. Our Corvallis community lost Mas.

The ripples of each of these losses affect those far and wide. I'm finding myself so sad sometimes, with no time to recover between one death and the next. A long time ago I remember someone on a TV show saying, "It's so strange that we say, I've lost someone. It's like we can find them again." Oops, there you are, I thought I'd lost you.

I consider myself a person of Spirit. I believe that we go on, past our physical bodies, that we will live together again somehow. But I am feeling the fragility of this life so clearly right now. Another little poke and I'll fall over and shatter.

I know Dr. Kubler-Ross' stages of grief. I wish it were that easy. I will miss these people everyday. I will continue to love them. I will feel the pain my friend's feel. I don't grieve for those who have gone on, I believe they are in a peaceful place, that they now have understanding that I don't have yet. My grief is for those of us left behind.

Prayer

I've been having a bit of a hard time lately. Down on myself, unsure of my family and friends, feeling lonely. I got emotionally messy over a few people one day and someone said to me, "you need to pray." "Pray!?" my brain screamed at me, "Pray!?" I don't really feel like praying and who is this person to tell me to pray? This simple statement intensified my pain. If only I'd pray, than everything would be alright. Really, so this is all my fault, I'm just not doing it right.

It was kind of strange, while I think of myself as a spiritual person, when I hear "you need to pray" I go right back to my Christian upbringing. Prayer was beseeching God. Asking for things, "God, help me to be happy, provide me with friends, make me healthy." This god is in charge and if I don't get it right, than I'm sunk.

And besides, I'd been really trying to do it right. I'd been trying yoga classes, getting acupuncture, revisiting how I eat, listening to meditation CDs. Isn't that like prayer? Isn't that spiritual?

So I took a few steps back. Spent time by myself. Being quiet helped, listening inside. I realized I was exhausted; once again, trying to "get it right." Not looking inside for my answers, trying to find that thing or combination of things that would help me find my center, to balance myself, to ground myself.

And then yesterday, just driving in my car it came to me. Prayer. My every moment is prayer. My every movement is prayer. Every bite of food I take is prayer. I know that. What I need is to do less, not more. Let go again and again; be kind to myself; sit in calmness.

Who knows what's right for me? I do. Prayer is looking inside, that's where I can find god, connect with god, hear god. We are each of us god incarnate, in her myriad of forms.