Monday, January 24, 2005

Living Death

It was pleasant to sift through my emails and click through IMDB.com after three days away from home. Messy room, clothes astray, bed unmade, but home nonetheless.

That pleasant repast stopped as I noticed my friend's nickname on MSN Messenger (something about not being able to sleep and crying tears of sadness). I asked what's wrong.

"My female labrador died," she sobbed virtually.

Shit, I thought. Death.

I hate it.

There are certain subjects that I have never been able to talk well about (then again I suppose a lot of people have the same problem), and this is one of them. I always have a difficult time consoling people. I don't know whether that is because I fortunately have not had many deaths in my life, or whether I just lack the nous to say and do 'the right things' (or both).

I just know that it means that I am not able to make other people feel better. And I absolutely hate it.

The thing about death is that it is not a part of life. Cyclically, death comes after life. In our life, it cannot co exists.

And yet, it is so much a part of life that it brings with it disappointment, hurt, anguish, and pain. Someone we know die. Our pet. Our closest friend. An aunt. It hurts because their lives, their cycle, is a part of ours. (I suppose the only way we can immune ourselves to that pain is to live like hermits, self-exiled from the rest of the world.)

And yet, somehow we manage to find a way to blame ourselves. If only we had called more often, if only we had spent more time, if only...

If only.

...

I don't know what else to write. It is all very well for me to sit here and spout all this. The time will come when this will serve to be nothing more than cockbull logic, impractical in nature, as we grapple with the emotions that swirl and erupt from the deep. When anger, hurt, pain, frustration, regret, disappointment, bitterness, and vengeance prevails in the fact of cold hearted logic and petty little cliches that serves to do nothing more than stir that melting pot even more.

I talked to my friend for a bit, trying to console her. I didn't think it went well, and she went offline soon after.

I kicked myself. Hard.

4 comments:

Unpredictable Mortal said...

It's not much of the consoling that brings comfort to a person who has lost a loved one, but it's more of a friend being there for them to hear them out and i thank you for doing so. You don't have to be upset. Besides, i'm glad that you were there to hear me out when i was upset over my dog's death. =)

Anonymous said...

Hey! Glad to see you've come out of the shadows and into the light! Excellent!

Perhaps, Fik, we should learn to accept the inevitable. It is indeed a part of life - but sooner or later it's going to happen (I'd rather it was later of course!). Regret is not going to bring anyone back.

Perhaps the only thing one can do is learn to appreciate life more.

Hapiness will not be as sweet without pain, and neither would life be without death.

-anna

Anonymous said...

Death is unpredictable...it's not easy when we lose someone we really care 4 n we really love..d only way u can console ur fren is 2 b by her side..listening 2 what she has 2 say..let her share her feelings wt u...

Anonymous said...

If death did not exist there wouldn't be a meaning to life.