Aging: Facing it, Bending to it, Grieving over it, Acceptance 

This is not just about my own mortality, although lately I find myself enthralled with the concept. I am fascinated by death and all the processes it goes through. You name it; hospice, cremation, burials, the practice of embalming, autopsies, the process of active dying, cultural practices and learning the peace in it all. Death being the finality (or is it), there are many phases and stages that contribute to that end. For the past two years I have become dedicated to finding out as much as I can about the dying process, what happens leading up to it, and what happens to you afterwards. Not talking spiritually but physically; what happens to loved ones? I also realize that I need to make decisions concerning my own death. I know people may fear death, I did, but what else can do but about it, it’s inevitable. I chose to accept it for myself, but it is not the same story concerning others, mostly my loved ones.

I have mentioned in a previous post my journey to healing not only my physical self but mentally and emotionally. It was during this process where death became a subject of affection for me. I was facing my own mortality and with that I wanted to be informed as much as possible so I could be prepared. I was watching all kinds of crap on the Tic-Tok about undertakers, death experiences, health crisis’s that slowly led others to death, physician assisted suicide. Even researched accounts of friends and family members and what it’s like to see a loved one pass and what they go through. Even visitations from those that have crossed over. This is my research to determine what I would choose during my end-of-life journey and the most important thing I have found out; I do not want to burden anyone. Like all things in life, I will plan this considering everyone, cause shit, I won’t be here, wink-wink. Jokes on them…

Over the years I have experiences lots of death, from best friends to friends overdosing, an ex-husband overdosed, in-laws, out-laws, grandparents, and beloved pets. That’s the already dead part. Now I am facing the decline of my parents, other family members, now Mark (husband) is a ticking time-bomb for a heart attack, Louise is losing her mind and wherewithal (her husband, Harold is getting meaner and hates the world). Watching people decline, changing who they used to be, has been a tough process for me to accept. It makes me mad, but I know I must accept this and move with the changes. But when a person starts to become someone, you don’t recognize it is not only terrifying, it’s sad, and only reminds me that their death is coming sooner rather than later. This concept is new to me as I’m sure it’s new to the ones going through it. Honestly, I don’t have any advice for this realization, I’m trying to navigate that as well. Maybe I am in the process of grieving what they once were, and I need to let that sink in and work through my feelings about it. Everyone grieves differently but I know this will lead me to my acceptance. Not sure what to do with myself except be present and accepting of my loved ones the best I know how, even though this ageism stuff is annoying me.

What about that “other side” of death, the afterlife? If there is one.  In my opinion, whether the beyond exists, this a truly personal belief with sole ownership lying with the individual. For me, when I was kid, around ages three through nine, a time came when I saw what I can only describe as a spirit, apparition, vision, whatever you want to call it, of unexplained objects. Not dreaming but in front of me; only confirmed by my friend at the time. The white haloed apparitions were not friendly, appeared to be a dog that was sick and wanted help. This dog was hiding out in my friend’s garage and when it discovered us it began to chase us. We both ran home but the dog followed my friend to their house. I know, kids play games, but the fear was legitimate and appeared for both of us. It was there. We never knew why that happened but can only derive from a neighbor’s dog recently passing and it was trying to warn us about something. After that contact my dreams started to take over. So clear, so real, so believable. These dreams also came in chronological order, always in the month of October, always taking place at my grandparents’ home and each year the dream showed me more. It started as a fun family Sunday gathering with all the extended family hanging at the grandparent’s house, playing in the yard and getting dirty in the creek. The next year, same scene, but this time a panic started as what appeared to be glowing, blinking images emerging from the woods; they were not friendly. The year after that, the blinking lights were turning into forest creatures, and my grandfather began herding all the family into the house. The year after that, everyone made it into the house and my grandfather was making everyone get into the basement. Before he could close the door to further protect us the lighted creatures enveloped my grandfather, and he disappeared. I don’t know what happened, but it was met with fear. The dream never happened again.

Another series of visits was decades later. I had bought a home in Keysville, GA and as I was cleaning it out, I found an old diploma that was from the late 1800’s. It was for a woman’s bachelor’s degree; do not recall the area of study. Knowing this was something special I decided to hold on to it hoping I might be able to find the previous owners and pass it along. My research was at a dead end. The diploma came with me to Florida. I even hung it on the wall, I loved having a piece of what felt like history. The location of the frame was in front of my daughter’s bedroom in direct sight of the bathroom. When my daughter came along, she was about 4 months old when the first visit occurred. I was home with Lexi, she had a bad stomach bug, throwing up, fever, the runs. I had put Lexi down for a nap and went to go float in the pool, bringing the baby monitor with me. Out of nowhere I started to hear some feedback on the monitor. I floated over to it and listened more carefully. There was a woman’s voice on the other end, speaking softly, telling me to come here. Come here? Then she said it again with panic in her voice. I hear zero noises from Lexi. I darted out the pool thinking someone was in her room and when I get to her, no one is there, but Lexi had thrown up all over herself and was choking. I was able to help her, and all was ok but that voice, she warned me, she helped me, she saved my daughter. After that occasion every time I would take Lexi for bathtime I would see her black silhouette in the corner of the hallway while looking over my shoulder. The spot where she stood was in front of the framed diploma. She was quiet, kind and only appeared to want to hang out and watch us. When I moved, I did not take her with me and I wish I did, she felt like a protector.

A couple other noteworthy visits are when my ex-husband died from an overdose. No one knew of his passing till 3 months went by. We had already split up and it was not a great situation. When I was informed, I struggled with it; I am a person, I do care that he was the biological father of my child. Another dream visit occurred, and it was only to let me know that he was in a better place. It was a simple happy face of his and all he said, in his silly dork voice, Hello! It never happened again. I think he wanted me to know and our daughter that he was ok where he now was. Lastly, I will take you to my grandmother. We were close, she helped to raise me, she knew my struggles and loved me endlessly. When she passed it was the end of a major chapter for me. I was struggling with the loss, and it was about the same time Honey was about to join our family. Turns out Honey was very rough around the edges (as I was in my younger years). My grandmother knew I struggled and never judged me but instead made herself available for guidance. Honey’s behavioral problems, one could say, coincided with my own issues growing up. I spent time, care and attention (still am) to get her as well adjusted as possible. Same as my grandmother’s handling of me. In a sense, I feel as though she led me to Honey, and it was a sign for me to know she was still there for me. The connection with Honey is like no other. As Honey grew up something was familiar with her. Although she was crazy, as all lab puppies are, there was this soft, steady, genuinely affectionate side that she only has showed me. The direct eye contact looking into my sole. She has this essence that she understands what is going on in my mixed-up brain. She is like my former lab, knows when the anxiety, stress and sadness become too overwhelming for me. I have been struggling, and my grandmother knows how much labs mean to me. I believe, in an odd way, she sent me this special one to look out for me too. Just like she did for Chubby. Together they will help me navigate the rough road.

Bottom line, I feel that morbid experiences along with my top-level research, have shown me that maybe there is an “after”. Or something, a non-identifiable something. It will truly be interesting to see how it all pans out. If someone has hardened proof, please speak up. Or maybe the “after” is as personal as choosing your political/religious. So many questions…

I could be reading WAY too into, but I believe it, in one form or fashion. The end will come, I feel OK with that. My life experiences, till this point, have led me to believe that there is comfort in acceptance of the death. Only issue, do I really need to grieve the fact that life will cease to exist for me? Perhaps, take a spin on the death train and find comfort that I will be as prepared as possible when the time comes. Even when we’re dead it will probably be like before I was born, a vast universe nothingness. I girl must believe in something.

Song Inspo: Christ Stapleton – Think I’m In Love With You