My Experience of Death (but not my own...yet)

There are essentially four ways to die: sudden death; the long, slow death of dementia; the up and down death of organ failure, where it’s hard to identify the final going down, tempting doctors to go on treating too long; and death from cancer, where you may bang along for a long time but go down usually in weeks. Suicide, assisted or otherwise, is a fifth, but I’m leaving that on one side for now. If asked, most people would chose sudden death. That may be OK for them but it may be very tough on those around them, particularly if they leave an important relationship wounded and unhealed. If you want to die suddenly, live every day as your last, making sure that all important relationships are in good shape, your affairs are in order, and instructions for your funeral neatly typed and in a top draw—or perhaps better on Facebook, let me state now that I have no preference, how would arrange my funeral or mourn me anyway? I have no family except for my son who I have not seen now for three years, through no fault of mine or his I may add, but my love for remains stronger and absolute than anyone could ever comprehend. Since his birth he brought forth emotions in me I never knew could exist but also he became an Achilles Heel for me, a weakness that could be exploited to hurt me when nothing else could. In a way, with him from my life this bleeds my heart like a death but without a chance to heal as the mourning never stops with every jolt of memory. All that would want to leave as a marker to my existence would be the knowledge within my son heart that his Father loved him and never stopped. Death from organ failure—respiratory, cardiac, or kidney—will have you far too much in hospital and in the hands of doctors. So death from cancer is the (sometimes) best, You can say goodbye, reflect on your life, leave last messages, perhaps visit special places for a last time, listen to favourite pieces of music, read loved poems, and prepare, according to your beliefs, to meet your maker if you have such beliefs or enjoy eternal oblivion. This is, I recognise, a romantic view of dying, but it is achievable with love, morphine, and whisky. But stay away from overambitious oncologists potentially leaving you to die a much more horrible death. My brother died the sudden death, oil rig explosion in the North sea during 1988 with 188 other poor souls. For me the most painful part was watching the hell my parents went through, the memorial service in Aberdeen, then in Falkirk then everything ripped open again when his body was recovered two months later. My Dad's death was slightly prolonged, it was cancer in the lungs, he was a smoker of cigars during his army days, although stopping when I was born they will got him in the end. Basically be drowned with fluid within his lungs as he lay in bed after being sickly and gradually getting worst for a couple of weeks, unfortunately he did not have the fore mentioned time to reflect and prepare, so much was still left unsaid, especially from me, I had so much to tell him which I never did in the end to my pain. The long, slow death from dementia may be the most awful way to pass as you are slowly erased, but then again when death comes it may be just a light kiss, this was how my Mum's life ended last year, her memories gradually scrubbed to a point where she did not recognise me and when shown a picture of my Dad, her husband, a man who passed way almost 20 years prior who she loved with a passion never again seen in this day and age, she gazed upon the photo in a frame I would hold up then say that she thought she went to school with him but could recall nothing further despite they were married for over 50 years and the happiest couple I ever met. Her life finally ended after being unconscious for 4 days and 3 nights, all of which I stayed by her side in her room within the care home. This may sound rough but it was a blessing as I pulled my seat right next to her bed and held her hand, she was unconscious so would not pull her hand away with a shriek believing me to be a strange in her dementia ridden mind instead of her son. I talked so much to her during that 4 days and 3 nights, I moistened her lips with a little sponge, I held her close when she moaned in her "sleep" and I said everything. I told her how much I loved her, I talked about her grandchild Sam and how much he loved her too, I read from a little book called In Praise of Shadows, I thanked her many times for the happiest childhood she and my dad gave me. Over the 4 days and 3 nights I saw her hand with I held darken and her face which I kissed upon the cheeks fall in upon its self until Sunday morning when she gave her final moans during which I cradled her head and repeated every affection I had for her then her final breath turned to air and it was over. Does this sound too personal a memory to share on a blog for strangers to read? But why? we are humans and as humans we share our experiences, sometimes take comfort knowing others have been through the same and I know I'm not the first nor will I be the last. Life is a beautiful gift, I remember my son being born, how when I put my hand in his incubator how he grabbed my finger and held on, I have never let go since! I remember the last time I felt love, chatting on an online messenger until the early hours of the morning, the feeling on my hand being stroked when at the cinema, the feeling in my heart during a hug and the tentative first kisses scared that there is is someone else in this world I care about again. I still remember the smell of Old Spice from my dad, how his rough callused hands felt. I remember how my brother, who was much older use to come home from his work and lift me up and spin me around the house as I giggled my head of and my mum watched with parental concern. These are the things that make us feel alive, yet all the people involved in this story are no longer in my life. Time robs us of such riches, sometimes we chase material things and ignore the important things. I am an Atheist, I don't believe in an after life, no theme parks of Paradiso and Inferno, no heavenly rides or hellish crowds, what we do in the here and now is whats important. Leave a legacy of being remembered as a good person, hide your pain like a clown hides its tears, ignore the bitterness of others and help these you can. Remember that every atom in our bodies came from a star that explode.To paraphrase a well know Scientist...The atoms in your left hand probability came from a different star to the atoms in your right hand. we are all stardust and would not be here if the stars had not exploded because the elements , carbon, nitrogen, oxygen and iron weren't created by a god at the beginning of time. they were created in the nuclear furnaces of stars and the only way they could get into our bodies is by the stars exploding. so forget about Jesus, its the stars which dies to give us life and to the stars we will eventually return, is that not poetic? Our clocks are ticking down, I dont fear death as such, why should I? the light goes off and thats it, what I fear in any pain and suffering, I fear my son won't have know me or remember how much I loved him. I fear people I love will never realise how much I care, I fear I will have been misunderstood by many, these fears dont make me unique in any way, these are the fears we all have and which we should start addressing now. As Shakespeare wrote "For in that sleep of death what dreams may come,when we have shuffled off this mortal coil, Must give us pause"