Death, as a cliffhanger
a reflection on mortality and life's loose ends
Hi everyone! For my first non-intro newsletter, I decided to keep things nice and light and talk about death, so let's jump right in!
When my still-waking brain registered the prompt word for day 23 of
's Poem a Day in May, I had to resist the urge to throw my phone. Instead, I stuffed it into my pocket and I went about my morning trying to think of anything but death.We're surrounded by death constantly - especially these last few years - and I think it's important to stay open to the difficult feelings that come along with it (particularly when it has been brought about by injustice, because change can’t come from being complacent); but that wasn't where my mind immediately wandered upon opening my email.
What scared me about this prompt word was having to once again confront the idea of my own mortality.
I have struggled for as long as I can remember with the thought of death, and what that means, but never so much as I have since having kids. My anxiety about anything happening to my children or my husband is rivalled only by my fear of dying and leaving them to face their lives without me.
I won't be precious - I refuse to make apology for knowing my worth as a person and as a parent. While I have plenty to learn, more growing to do and cycles to break, I know that what I have to offer my children is valuable; that they are seen and held and loved uniquely by me, that there are moments and memories they can’t make with anyone else, and that to lose me would be devastating. This is simply the nature of the parent-child relationship.
Lives end, but they're never really finished.
I have always felt a desperate, aching need to live long enough to tie all my most important loose ends. There are so many things I still want to do, and for me, so much of that revolves around my family, and making sure that I have left behind enough pieces of myself for them to hold onto when I’m gone.
So the thought of leaving the world with so much undone, and imagining them experiencing the rest of their lives without me being there to witness, to hold space, to honour each phase, and to tell them how magnificent and valued and loved they are, is excruciating. I can’t help but preemptively grieve all of the possibilities.
The poem I wrote is a result of this train of thought and these difficult feelings.
I'm not afraid of dying;
I do it every day
I am afraid of leaving;
of business unfinished
knowledge unlearned
thoughts unuttered
words unread
moments unnoticed
love unexpressed
time unspent
life unlived
For me, the cadence and shape of this poem almost seems to cascade, accelerating downward like the last two beats of a heart until you reach the end, which doesn’t quite feel like an ending. It feels like a perfect reflection of the thoughts and feelings that inspired it - of death, as a cliffhanger.
I know I’m not alone in these feelings. I’d like to think I might reach a stage of life someday where I feel at peace and ready to go, but I don’t expect it. There are some things you can’t mindfulness your way out of, and in this case, I’m not sure I need to. Fear is just a message, like any other emotion, and what mine is telling me is that there are so many worthwhile things that I want to share and do and experience.
Part of what has led me to where I am right now, doing so many things that I love and find fulfilling that also scare me - including writing this newsletter - is the desire to take in and share all the beauty I can while I’m here, and to model that for my children. I hope that I still have many years to fill in this way, but if not, at least I have this; this proof of feeling the fear, and choosing the thing that’s worthwhile anyway.
If this poem or essay resonated with you, please leave a comment with your thoughts
and feel free to share!
I really love how you described the importance of your presence as a Mother for your children. In so many ways, I notice how little acknowledgment is given to the powerful wisdom our children receive in relationship to Mothers. The initiation INTO Mother is a death of what was, a surrender to what is Becoming. It is part of what directs our devotion to our children, refining our unique medicine to be shared and received within these most powerful relationships. Motherhood as alchemy, death as alchemy.
Death is a powerful subject, contemplation, experience... I appreciate what you have shared here, especially can relate around being a mother with children. Oh how concerned I was with this when my children were young! However, now growing elder, my feelings around death have changed. Maybe its just as simple as I have made it to this time of life. Yet, in many ways I feel as if my life is just beginning. Done with menopause and all the hormones, there is a deeper relaxation into living it! Thanks A. for your share. Also a recommendation, maybe you have already read this,, I bring this forward because this book changed everything for me around death. It is called, Die Wise, by Stephen Jenkinson