Celebrate The Dead.

ACT ONE: HERE COMES THE FLOODWORKS.

Well good ol’ Benjamin Franklin said the quintessential quote to properly summarize life, according to popular belief.

“The only things certain in life are Death and Taxes”.

I’d like to add only one, single, revision to that.

“The only things certain in life are Death, Taxes, and a Beautiful woman will break your heart at one point.”

And make that “at a few points” for some of us.  Ain’t going to name names, however.  I find confidentially among us humanoids is a prized possession, though I don’t exactly know why.  It is a great irony that is actually quite hilarious.  But we’ll save that for another time.

So yeah, death is really the most certain thing of the two (or three, if you buy my revision).  You see, “tax evasion”, or the evading of paying taxes, is possible.  Some aren’t as successful at it (Sorry, Mr. Snipes), but it is still possible.  Except if you buy something from any store.  Okay, so it maybe isn’t so easy to evade.  Damn taxes.  It’s like a lost puppy dog, and you have bacon in your back pocket.  Your wallet, to be exact.

Anyways, taxes bore the revenue right out of me.  I want to talk about Death.  Sorry, didn’t mean to be so macabre so fast.  

Though, I am quite the fan of Edgar Allan Poe.

I think we have Death all wrong.  We treat it as such a tragedy, a thing to fear, the ultimate defeat.

Hell, I think death is the best thing that can happen to you.

Macabre.  Me.  Again.

Okay, Death really is tragic.  The first meaningful death occurred for me when we had to put the family’s cat to rest.  Sabrina.  I had just turned 14 years old 4 days before.  I loved her, she was around since I was 3 or 4 years old, and she was my sister.  She was a beautiful kitty; a prima donna who always made sure her fur was spotless.  I remember taking her to the veterinarian for the last time.  I held her as my mom drove.  I remember as she jumped up and looked out the window at all the action that was occurring.  So tragic, as it would be her last car ride, and as an animal she had no idea.  Then again, how many of us are ever prepared for when someone we love passes on?  Or, for that matter, we never know when it is our time.  When we will have our last car ride.  The last time we see the beauty that is truly inherent on this rock.

You see, Sabrina began to become senile, she didn’t always know what was going on all the time.  It could have been time.  But I still think she could have stayed around for some years.  We just would have had to been more patient.

It was worse when we got to the veterinarian.  And I still don’t know why we did what we did.  It haunts me.  Even now it produces tears.  We make it into the room; the veterinarian supplies the tranquilizer so Sabrina won’t feel anything.  He explains that she will slowly go numb, and then administer the drug, and Sabrina will go peacefully.  I remember watching as my sister had that shot injected to her, and her hind legs began to twitch, and gave way.  She would stand never again.  Now, when I think about how she laid there I think of all the countless days and years I saw her lay like that in any available sunlight that poured through our home.  But this was her final resting place.

This is the moment where I lose comprehension.  My mother and I, maybe the veterinarian dismissed us and I don’t remember that detail, but before Sabrina, my beloved, crazy, sister takes her last breath, my mother and I leave.  My last words to my dear sister:  “Goodbye, Kitty.”

What the hell?

I remember when we returned home that night.  My mother and I held each other as we both cried, a breakdown, for a long time.  It just hurt me so bad, struck me to my core.  But all I can think of now is how Sabrina’s last sight on this earth was some doctor she never knew in her life.  All I can think about what her little cat mind was thinking as she slowly drifted into an artificial sleep.

What am I thinking?  How is Death the best thing to happen to us?

The hardest Death I’ve experienced was the Death of my Great Grandmother, Esther, in my first year of high school.  Words cannot describe how great my Great Grandmother was.  Problem is, everyone who has had the privilege of knowing their Great Grandmother would probably say the same thing, words cannot describe their Great Grandmother.  So poor Esther can doubly never be described.  However, my dear Great Grandmother was a saint; not once in the 15 years I was able to know her did she speak ill once of anyone.  In all of my Mother’s life, which bests mine by 32 years, my Mother heard her swear once.  One time.  My Mother knew Great Grandma for 47 years.  I swear every damn minute.

One of my favorite memories of my Great Grandmother was before I was even born.  In fact, it was when my brother was being born.  While my Mother was screaming and cursing through the battle that is childbirth labor with my dear brother, the one to always give everyone aches and pains, my Great Grandmother arrived.  As soon as my Great Grandmother arrived, my dear Mommy stopped the obscenities immediately, and followed good ol’ Great Grandmother in prayer.

That was Great Grandmother for you.  She brought upon a peace you could never fully explain.  The visits to her home never had any ounce of negativity, boredom, or triteness.  Perfect, beautiful, weekends.

Then like all elderly do at one time or another, she died.  

I remember getting to see her for the last time on her death bed.  So very sad.  She was so very sick.  So it was a relief to find out the day her suffering at the end could stop.

The lasting tragic memory of when it dawned on me Great Grandma was gone was at the funeral service.  I remember my Mother reading something she wrote about my Greatest Grandma, as I held my niece Ciara, 4 years old.  We both began to cry.  I held my dear niece close and cried tears of silence.  Tears for my Great Grandma.

My Great Grandma taught me one of the greatest things possible.  Her inherent goodness, to the point where it was saintly, has made me hold firm to the belief that goodness can conquer all.  Goodness is wellness of the spirit.  Because of Great Grandma, I know a soul surges within me.  I know a soul surges within us all.

Whew, this is getting hard.  But believe me, Death is the greatest thing that can happen in our life.

See, Death is only death of the body.  I’ve written before how nobody is lost forever in Death.  Once somebody dies, the people that somebody left behind lives.  And through their lives that someone lives on.  The lessons my Great Grandmother taught me with her existence exist in me, they are a large core of who I am.  And I guarantee I am far from the only one when concerning my Great Grandmother.  Each of us will spread those lessons through our own lives.  It will reach others, strangers to my Great Grandmother.  And 

through this, my Great Grandmother is forever.

END OF ACT ONE

ACT TWO: TURNING THE FROWN UPSIDE-DOWN

Death, truly, is the best thing that will happen in our lives.

In life, we are constantly miserable.  We don’t sleep enough.  We sleep too much.  We are too fucking fat.  School is boring.  School is expensive.  Work is boring.  I don’t have enough money.  Suzie is a whore.  John is an asshole.

Humans are so miserable they try to self destruct themselves!  World War anybody?

I figured out why.

Life frickin’ sucks.

Have you ever been hungry?  Hell yeah, you have.  It turns you into a fucking animal.  All you can think about is how you can totally go for a pizza, veggie burger, knuckle sandwich, so forth.  You stop focusing on whatever, probably more important, thing you were doing.  All you can think of is the hunger.

Then you satisfy it.  Then guess what.  You’re fucking hungry again!  It is a vicious cycle that never ends. 

Until you die!

What about shitting.  Yeah, you do it.  Me too.  And yes, girls do poop.  Believe me, I read Everybody Poops.  It implies, rather implicitly, everybody does the poop.  Yeah, it is disgusting, but we do it.  But you know what the worst thing about pooping is?  Convenience factor.  Your body’s pooping function never bothers you at opportune times, where you aren’t very busy and a detour to the bathroom doesn’t really interfere.  It always insists on being times where you don’t have the time!  About the only good thing is the ample reading time pooping gives you. 

Even worse is when you aren’t in the comfort of your own home.  Shit!  Quite literally.  So you go find the nearest restroom.  But of course as soon as you run in there and begin your business that is the time when the restroom becomes the place to be.  All of a sudden you got a parade of people going through your temporary shit sanctuary.  It is much like flies to dog shit.

Then you do your business.  Guess what.  Poop has another appointment booked in the next day or so.

Until you die!

Going to sleep sucks.  A proper night of sleep is 8 hours.  You know how much stuff one can do in 8 hours.  They can watch artificial life (i.e. movies and such) for 8 hours!  Or, you know, live their own lives.

But, not getting enough sleep sucks even harder.  It makes everything a drag, your essence is just nowhere to be found.

The whole bullshit about sleep sucks.

Until you die!

School sucks.  You learn in classrooms for 12+ years for what, you have somebody look at a piece of paper that tells them you learned something, therefore, conceivably, they can hire you to do whatever mundane tasks they need you to do.

Until you die!

Work sucks.  They pay you to bust your caboose or noodle; you spend more time doing it than anything else, most likely with people that make your skin crawl.

Until you die!

Bills suck.  They are much like pooping and being hungry.  An endless cycle.

Until you die!

See, when somebody dies they don’t need to deal with this bullshit anymore.  Death is the best thing that can happen to you.

END OF ACT 2

ACT 3: CELEBRATE THE DEAD

When someone dies, they leave us behind.  All the lessons, all the memories, all they stood for, it stays behind.  It stays with us.  We carry on these things in our own hearts, and we spread the joy and wisdom they bring to others.

We are the sole reasons for anyone to reach immortality.  And it is possible for each and every one of us to become immortal.  But first, we need to leave that mark on others.  And we need to decide what mark it is we want to leave.  But always be aware what you do in this life will be remembered, it will last longer than you ever possibly could.  That is the greatest thing to know, but also the scariest.

So when we say our final goodbyes to somebody, there will no doubt be tears.  Sadness.  It  can be looked at as a tragedy.  However, I feel there are worse things than Death.  Living a life that never reaches its potential.  Taking life for granted, sprinting far too fast towards Death.  But those that were aware the time we have here is vital, spent it wisely on those that mattered to them, spent it wisely on the things they found important to improve, when Death reaches them, we shouldn’t feel such sadness.  We should smile because they left this place a better one than they found it, they will live on forever, and now they need not feel pain.

We need to Celebrate what we learn from others.  We need to Celebrate life, and how fleeting it will always be.  We need to Celebrate each other.  We need to Celebrate why we are the way we are.  We need to Celebrate that there is still much work to do, so Death needs to wait its turn.  But when it is someone’s time, we need to realize that they deserve the gift that is Death, when they can finally rest from all the pain that comes from a life truly lived.  Through Life, we need to Celebrate the Dead.