In Memoriam
20 years ago this month my grandfather died of a brain tumour. Although the pain of that event is somewhat gone, the memories are still very strong. I had already lost one grandfather years before; somehow this one was of greater dept to me. Not because I loved him more, but perhaps because I was older and could understand some things better, all the while having a lot of unanswered questions. That death lead a series of other losses in my family over the following years, which, growing up, have made me reflect abundantly (too much perhaps) over the meaning of life and death. Like a lot of you, I'm sure.
Losing someone, anyone, is almost a rite of passage in life. Like a stepping stone in our own path to mortality. Regardless of religion, faith, spirituality, belief, or lack thereof; birth and death are the only two certainties in this life.
If that lost of others is a preparation for our own departure one day, can we still say that the lucky ones are those that have never lost a loved one? Are feeling and experiencing death of others a way to take control of the fear that seems to shadow this tragic event?
It is only by casting a light on that fear, that it can be dealt with and, then, be overcome somewhat. Obnubilating it and keeping it in the shadow, it grows stronger and never gets tamed. It even eat us alive sometimes!
As important as it is to take life by the horn and experience it to the fullest, it is as important to embrace our own mortality. As much as our triumph and good deeds, our defeats and sufferings are what makes us, US. It is with all of them that we grow and learn and, perhaps, change ourselves and the world.
If we don't know life, how can we know death? (Confucius)
In loving memory of my grandfather, the clown, that's how I'll always remember him.