Gallows Humour
Our new Constitution is now established, everything seems to promise it will be durable; but, in this world, nothing is certain except death and taxes,” — Benjamin Franklin, 1789
I had a text conversation with my Aunt on an early evening in June;
‘Chuttie, I’m knee deep tidying.’
‘Oh Wow! Good going!’
‘Earmarking headaches for you before I kick the bucket. Great fun!’
‘Gallows humour again Aunty?’
This has been our running joke for the past 10 years, as she has always taken a pragmatic approach to the sands of time, and as a true girl guide has always been prepared for the inevitable. If there is anything we know for certain is that there is always a beginning and an ending. Like a punctuation at the end of a sentence or story.
Birth and death, like night follows day.
At 83 years old she looks death head on with a positive spring in her step, and the irony here is that I’ve not know anyone who celebrates life as much as she does. She gets in at least 12k steps a day, is out of the house every day running various errands, travels widely, follows current events, is extremely knowledgable with lots of positive and sage advice to dish out. Being both a night and early bird, she is always on the move and raring to go on the next adventure before the first is over. Lockdown did limit her external movements and irritate her no end, but she still managed to get her steps in on her treadmill!
Three days after our text banter my uncle, her cousin, passed away in Sri Lanka. He was also tested negative for COVID. This is significant, as if not the body would not be released to the family, and is immediately cremated — no questions.
It was a sad time for the family, amidst COVID restrictions only seven people were in attendance at his funeral and cremation — only the immediate family. Neither myself or my aunt were in attendance. No wake was held.
This is such extreme circumstances, when typically in the asian community, funerals are attended by the masses to pay their respects as well as condole with the family. The numbers gathered almost competing with that of a wedding.
‘Nothing is Permanent’ — Buddha
In Buddhism, death is a significant milestone, marking the transition from this life onto the next, and the cremation ceremony functions as the releasing of the soul from the physical form. And the family offer merit to ease this passage at the funeral. It is followed with merit offered on the Seventh day and the third month after passing, and then annually afterwards.
There is both truth and sadness in death, and we struggle to let go. Of possessions, memories, friendships and loved ones. I’m reminded that I won’t be able to see my uncle or talk to him again. He lived alone as an eccentric bachelor, a stickler for proprietary and insisted on us making formal appointments when visiting him. I don’t recall him having a group of close friends he could lean on, but then again he was a private man. Towards the latter years of his life he would frequently start to tear up at funerals and when talking to us. It made me uncomfortable. How could I console him, when I didn’t understand his fear?
Following the funeral it was heartwarming to hear so many positive thoughts from people who knew him. Do I wish he had an easier carefree life? Do I wish he had the ability to let go and embrace the life he had fully, cognisant of its impermanence? Yes, I do.
I cannot presume to know what his final thoughts were, but I’d like to think that he went peacefully and without regrets.
Reverting back to my aunts pragmatic view on death — which I prescribe to as well — ‘kicking the bucket’ has been her excuse for all the travelling and exploring that she’s done, some of them with me. So maybe I’m more desensitised than most, but I prefer to join her thought process and live. To make use of the time I have been given and be happy.
Many find talking about death rather morbid, disturbing and terrifying and seek to avoid or ignore the topic. Some revert to reminiscing and idolising their youth, when they are in their winter years. Denying what naturally follows our existence is not the most healthy way to celebrate life. Is it a secret expectation of finding immortality through sheer will and determination or is it the temptation to imitate an Ostrich?
Like hitting the snooze button every morning … but eventually you have to wake up, then live, rinse and repeat.
Unless you ‘kick the bucket’ of course!
Right now for every single death in the world, there are two and a half births.
Life continues, so live it!
