In just under 8 weeks, two beloved uncles of mine have passed from this life and moved on to the other side.
Sorrow has made its way through my family in repeat performances, leaving us stricken with a mixture of guilt, sadness and regret. (Read my eulogy to my Uncle Clem here.)
Unfortunately, I’m no stranger to death, having lost my father when I was a child, his father whom I never met, my beloved grandmothers, my gentle grandfather, an aunt gone way too soon and countless pets – each one’s passing making the hole wider in my heart.
I’m not sure I can take much more, especially as death continues to draw itself close. And I know it will. It will draw closer to all of us, eventually taking us, too. I’m thankful, though, that I still have my health and my dear husband; my mother; my brother; my in-laws (including sisters and brothers); my friends; and now, in my heart’s possession, my sons, whom I fear if I ever lost, I would never recover.
But what if we are looking at death all wrong? What if in reality, death is actually a grand rebirth? One that we should celebrate instead of mourn?
Perhaps the late Vladimir Nabokov, one of the most imaginative and accomplished writers of our time, put it best:
“Life is a great surprise. I do not see why death should not be a greater one.”
What do you think?