Odds and Ends

Kate’s going to die. This is not news; we’re all going to die after all. Nevertheless, it’s hit me like a tabloid headline, like a vulgar shout, like a home invasion. My beautiful, feisty, curly-haired friend (and former “cupcake killer” partner in PTO crime) is going to die. Before she turns 50. Before her daughters graduate high school. Before many of us, including her are ready. She only just told her girls that the disease they’ve watched consume her for the last two years has reached an end-point.

They already knew. We all did. Still in our irrational belief in miracles, we all denied it. At the risk of being accused of blaming the victim I must say Kate didn’t help matters much. She’s always been a private, extremely self-sufficient person. Perhaps this came from being raised in a houseful of sisters or from her years as a single mom whose husband didn’t fool around with another woman, ask for a divorce or leave her. He died too, tragically before her youngest was even born. Whatever the reason, Kate retreated into a very small world, keeping much of the gore to herself, asking for and/or accepting so little that many of us on the perimeter felt hollow… like she was already gone.

And, therein lies the “odd” part of this consideration. When Kate passes, I know for a fact, as sure as I’m still living, that it won’t really affect my day that much. I imagine there are some who will scoff at that, call me cold, heartless even… but really, when we’re being COMPLETELY HONEST how many of us could say the exact same thing?!? We may give a hug, make a call, send a card. If our schedules allow, we may even attend the service and shed a tear, but is it profound… or perfunctory? That’s how disconnected we are from the truly meaningful events in our lives and those of our neighbors, so-called friends… and even, sadly, family members.

I speak from experience. Just before Christmas our family lost its patriarch. Amidst an array of completely human and physical “failings” he left us to figure it out… alone. Rather than see the blessing right in front of our eyes, the entire family resorted to isolation and private hurt. Rather than shared experience, the profundity was swept under the rug… like a secret, like a mess... so NOT like the connecting experience that reminds us of our very common life… and death. Our humanity is fragile and incredible at the same time. Our relationships could be what connect us through time and space, through life and death, so we understand and appreciate our own living… and dying.