I've never liked the word death; there's something incredibly cold about it.
Death.
It's cold and unfeeling and sudden and final.
I always use other terms such as passed away, travelled to the next life; it makes the thought of death easier for me to deal with when I use them; the terms soften the harshness of it.
As with many others on Saturday morning, I awoke to the tragic news of Chadwick Boseman's passing. 'WHAT?!' I gasped.
I sat in shock for a few moments and was then ready to go back to bed, curl up in the foetal position and just ponder for hours on why 2020 continues to bring such horror and sadness, and what was this all for? Life, I mean. I'd just had enough. I definitely think the emotional and mental distress that 2020 has already brought that I still find myself working through just tipped when I heard about Chadwick.
My sister and I spent a while talking about Chadwick, 2020 and death, the latter being something I actively try to avoid talking about - whenever the topic comes up I make a swift exit by walking out of the room or putting my earphones in, depending on where I am. Talking or even thinking about death causes me great sadness and fear, and I avoid anything that brings those type of emotions. It was only when my sister and I had finished talking that it was quite clear that my fear of death was still very much alive and because it was a fear, it was something that I needed to confront and deal with - I made a decision earlier this year that anytime I felt fearful about anything, I would confront it head on so it would no longer have any power over me.
Having experienced death in my own family, I know firsthand how painful and traumatic it can be losing a loved one, but it's not from this view that I'm speaking about today; it's my own personal view of death.
Death is final and death is sudden; this is what I found scares me. The fact that one minute you can be alive and with a snap of the finger you could be gone. I'm a Christian so I believe in spending eternity with God after death; I understand that it's the physical body that dies not the spiritual one, but it's still that here one minute, gone the next part that scares me.
When I remember this, I remember that this life, the life that I'm living, I cannot in any way take for granted. Every day that I'm blessed with, every day that I'm alive, I need to live and live with purpose. Even on days where I'm resting, I rest with purpose. We are under no circumstances promised a long life. When we die we won't have that chance to start the business we always dreamed of or write that book we felt led to write or to tell your parents/siblings/partner/friends how much they are loved by you.
If one minute I can be alive and with a snap of the finger not be, it tells me that if I have something in my heart to do or words in my mouth to speak, I should do so, now - tomorrow isn't promised.
Imagine having so many dreams; dreams of starting a charity that would help refugees, travelling around the world, writing a book, helping the homeless, starring in a film, starting a photography course, fighting for human rights etc and not stepping out to do any of them. Instead, these dreams are taken to the grave and begin to wither away alongside the body. Those who have died will never get the chance again. There's no do-overs, comebacks or re-dos.
My heart broke when I thought about this and the fact that there have been people who are no longer with us today who would've have dreams but never achieved them or things to say and never said them.
Even though Chadwick was incredibly ill and was already years into suffering from stage 4 colon cancer and undergoing treatments, he dedicated himself to Black Panther - as well as numerous other films - and God knows the rigorous training he had to endure, so that Black people could celebrate and finally have a Black superhero that we could call our own. It made me wonder what it was that kept him going. Was it the fact that he was still alive and therefore he was still going to live? That he may be dying but he wasn't dead yet? I mean, he encapsulates the word hero!
When I thought about all of these things it made me see death differently. Confronting death and actually taking the time to sit and grasp what it is that frightens me about it gave me the opportunity to learn and see death from another perspective.
I don't know when my last breath will be, but I want to make sure that whenever it is, I can smile wide while I drift towards the sunset and part this world, knowing that I did as much as I humanely could to serve and love those that I both do and don't know.
That while I still have air in my lungs, no matter how difficult life may get, I still have to keep fighting, still have to keep pressing. I still have to keep writing and speaking and still have to keep living. Another way of looking at it? Every day we are alive is a day that we are closer to death - I know it's quite sombre and macabre to think that, but it's the truth. There's life at the beginning of the spectrum and death at the other end - time is what fills the gap in between them.
The question is: what will you do with that time?
☾
0 comments