7. When you get the news, you want to reflect on their life.
You’re forced to voluntarily remember little details about them that are resurfacing now. You’ll want to put them somewhere, so you never forget them.
6. It pushes you on the religious question
For some, death is leaving this awful world and moving onto eternal happiness.
For others, you have no clue where they went and can only wonder if their spirit is wandering out there.
Experiencing a major death really pushes you to re-evaluate everything you thought you ever concluded about life, the after life, and religion’s role in it all.
5. Life stops for a split second.
Suddenly, you’re filled with regrets from all times of all ages. You regret not spending more time with a person when you were younger, you get mad at yourself for enjoying life in their last few months of hardship.
What I took away from it all, however, was that there’s no use in regretting past actions.
In some cases, the regret consequently compels some to reach out to others to try to make up for lost time or, in a new spirit of emotional engagement, salvage their relationships.
Some react oppositely, pushing others away and closing everyone off. Most times, the underlying explanations are the bottom half of the iceberg submerged below the surface of the water, of which we are commonly unaware.
4. It shocks some but not others.
I didn’t react to this death as if it were a surprise. The person had been suffering for months, and I think I had enough time to come to terms with their impending death.
3. Everyone grieves differently.
Some cry, some stare harder at their plate, some hold it in until, all at once, they can’t anymore. Some export their emotions in choppy, incoherent phrases into a notebook and then tear up the page so no one can read their thoughts (hey).
I think everyone’s reaction is partly their relationship to the person who passed, and one part their personality, and how likely they are to share their emotions publicly.
2. Life goes on.
People don’t slam the brakes on the metaphorical car of their lives to stop and mourn for your loss, especially if they didn’t know the deceased.
All these sort of “acquaintances” can do is throw out generic words of consolation for their friend and move on with their day, which is completely fine. When you’re in one of those situations, what more can you do? You didn’t know the person personally, and your open ears are the best help you can lend in a time like this.
This sort of reaction isn’t something at which we ought to be appalled, as it’s inevitably part of human nature, the way that very few people are willing to engage in discussions for very long unless they can benefit from it somehow. Others though, on rare occasions, take the time to sit down and listen.
When someone’s grieving, there’s no need to rush. He’s in no hurry to pick himself up and move on, grabbing at his belongings as he makes his way towards the door.
He doesn’t need a lift off his bum, and he doesn’t need your pity. He just needs you to squat down next to him, sit with him even, as he cries on the dirty floor. He wants your hand patting his back, telling him that it’s okay to be sad, letting him take his sweet time gathering his breaths.
When there are tears blurring your vision, even the smallest of hills can loom like a mountain. So let someone be sad, because they have the goddamn right to be.
Just make sure that they aren’t down there long enough to will their bodies to become one with the floor.
1. Being a writer sucks.
More on this idea to come later…
Your reaction to some deaths are just plain cold and calculated. Someone sits you down and tells you the news, and your brain is already processing it, manufacturing it into a life lesson that can be candy-coated for a mass audience.
Is that what I’m doing here?
I don’t think so.
I gave myself a few days to take in the news, reflect, and react to it how I would. Private writing really helps at a time like this, and some of the strongest realizations have to be kept to oneself, but some realizations everyone can relate to, and that’s what Never Stationary is for.
Apparently SoundCloud is compatible with WordPress! Who knew! I’m going to be taking advantage of this.