Death can be a sensitive and commonly undiscussed topic. But, why? We all know we are going to die. So, why has it molded such an emotional roadblock for many of us? Perhaps in fear of its abducting hold of our mortality? Or, perhaps because we know nothing other than life? In the midst of the 21st century, where depression and anxiety are sitting at the popular table, I wonder why can't we also talk about death?
In order to break the ice with this topic of conversation, I wanted to introduce my own experience with death — a very uplifting first article, am I right? I have lost three people in my life just over the past two years, and it has been the most painful, yet humbling experience.
Just two months ago my family lost our biggest smile — our just 10-year-old, sweet Sable. I remember I was pulling into my driveway for dinner with my family. My mom saw my car and ran out to meet me as I saw her eyes swell with tears. My sweet cousin Sable had just passed away only hours after she was diagnosed with the common flu. My family crowded in the hospital room later the next evening to say our final goodbyes as we shared many tears, many hugs, and many prayers. I can still feel her little hand in mine as she rests beside her parents in the hospital bed, all cozied up in her pajamas and pink painted fingernails. I can still feel the tears on my cheek and I still feel the heartache for her family and friends. We are all still in shock, still hurting, still grieving.
There is no denying that loss is one of the most painful heartaches imaginable. But, I choose to believe there is much to be learned from death as there is from life, and I am still learning. c:
Love without reservation.
Our days are not promised. One act of kindness can go a long way.
Just days after Sable's passing my family received incomprehensible amounts of love from the community. Community members decorated the area with the pink ribbon (Sable's favorite color), supported her Go Fund Me more than what my family ever imagined, and so much more. Indeed, I learned the pain of loss through her passing, but I am also learning love. A love so selfless and pure, that has transformed my prior understanding of love into something more — a love that lifts the heart by also lifting up others — a love that shines like Sable. How spectacular to see that a little girl can make such a big impact on her community within such little time. At only 10-years-old, her swelling generosity has inspired many and continues to deepen my pursuit toward other's hearts as well.
My scars are armor.
Do not be ashamed of your scars. Use the pain, the tears, the heartache and take it to battle. It is what makes you dangerously beautiful — you are stronger because of them. It can, at times, be difficult to find the wisdom that comes from pain, but every scar is a mark of where your structure was mended. Share your wisdom through your scars, and let it be your greatest weapon.
My faith is stronger than my grief.
I used to have a hard time not being angry with God and wonder why he would allow such a tragedy to consume my family. I do not believe that God necessarily plans for the bad things to happen, but I do believe he knows they are coming. He may not brace us for it, but I love how when the pain does come he can take it and transform it into something beautiful... and that's where faith comes in.
Even though at times I am lost in confusion and question 'why God?' I choose to let His truth be my compass. That choice to rest in His comfort and to surrender my fear brings a peace that suddenly outweighs the doubt. That's faith— that choice to trust that God is good even when my situation isn't. It does not make the heartache any less painful, but the choice of faith does shift perspective. It is a choice that took me some time to make, but by continuing to choose God over and over I now trust that through the pain, he is making me new.
Grow through it to go through it.
It is okay to grieve, do not detach yourself from it.
Death buries a hole that I believe can never be filled. Sadness may evolve to treasured memories and anger to comfort, but the hole never truly goes away. "Going through" these emotions of grief is what I think also teaches you to grow from it. The transformation may be painful, and a process that takes a great depth of time, but I cannot wait to meet the girl on the other side who has "grown through" all of her heartache.
