Living Without the Why

            “Things we lose have a way of coming back to us in the end, 

          if not always in the way we expect.” J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter

Each of us will die. We know this, even if we run from thinking about it. Death isn’t the problem. How we grieve when those we love die is.

Most of us are aware that some people die young, although we may not know the staggering numbers. More people die young than I can reconcile with my previous view of the world as an abundantly happy place to hang out.

Something Caitlin Doughty said changed my focus: ‘If we’re unburdened by the existential questions of why someone died, then we are free to focus on grief.’

            After 15 years of searching, writing, and talking to others, I am no closer to understanding the why of Evelyn’s death. To me it’s still senseless. There was no reason that Ev needed to die. There was no meaning to her death. No purpose was fulfilled by her dying. She just died, and it still doesn’t seem right. For some people, the why is half of their battle with grief.

            After the Why, comes the Where that we like to speculate about late into the night. I am also no closer to understanding where Evelyn resides post-death, even though I’ve considered a warehouse of beliefs and notions about heaven, the afterlife, and the next world that people, philosophers, poets and theologians have spoken, written and pontificated about over the centuries. I have my wishes, but I doubt that the Eternal is swayed by them. 

            Letting go of the Why, the Where, and ruminations of the Ever Forever After, allows me to focus on getting through grief and piecing life back together in a way that enables me to continue living, even if my heart isn’t in it in the beginning. Besides lighting candles to guide Ev to her destination, and saying prayers of intercession, dealing with grief is the only situation I can change.

            What the early deaths, the young deaths, the out-of-sequence deaths make clear is that any of us can die at any time. It also says that precious few of us will die peacefully in bed, drifting off into the nether sphere with a bemused smile on our face. Most of us won’t die a noble death in the course of saving someone else or for a just cause. We will probably be in a car accident, or develop a horrible and debilitating disease, or simply slip on a rug, hit our heads, and its night night for all time, sweet prince. 

            What this says is that I have today to deal with today’s grief and care for others. Tomorrow will have its own set of problems and its own grief. If today’s grief hasn’t been dealt with, then tomorrow I will have two days’ worth. Grief doesn’t go away until we deal with it, but it does compound with interest.

            Tomorrow needs to be its own creation, and not filled with the residue of today. Tomorrow there will be surprises, and if we are finished with today, then we will be open to them. If we’re lucky, we will have days upon days to love our people and explore brave new worlds.