The strongest person I have ever met is my mom.
The strongest evil is death.
The strongest hero is death.
To explain how my mom is the strongest person I have ever met would take me minutes. Then those minutes would accumulate into hours, which would roll into days and weeks. Ultimately, it would take me longer than my existence to explain how strong she is. She has been the cornerstone to my being and the most reliable and loyal friend I have ever had. Death is harder to describe. It has received the denomination of being evil. It is considered the ultimate, inevitable force which grinds the members of every species to a halt whether it be to their own demise, or to the effects of another’s demise. Yet, it also is an underrated hero. It protects and finishes that which is beautiful. It saves those in pain and suffering. How do these two incredible forces act with each other?
According to Newton’s First Law of Motion, “objects continue to move in a state of constant velocity unless acted upon by an external net force.” I have never seen my mom so effectively displaced by the threat of imminent death. This is not her own death, but her mom’s.
My grandmother was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s Disease 13 years ago. We found out on Thursday that she is going to be admitted into Hospice Care. My mother keeps telling me, “It’s been a long road. Just send her home.” The past few days have been rough, to say the least. I have never met my grandmother, except for the time when she held me when I was a baby. I have no recollection of her, so I don’t know if this qualifies as “meeting.” I only feel an intense pain for my mom who is hurting. Thursday night was hard. She was remembering all of the memories she had with her. She is coming to terms with harsh realities which she has known but never fully recognized.
“My parents are going to be dead before Papa’s.”
“Time, time, time.”
“I’m going to be an orphan. Hahaha!”
“What kills me is that she never met you.”
“She may not even know me.”
My grandmother has not really been with us for the past few years. And now, her partial connection to the world will be over in six months or less. My distant family is coming together for the first time in years because of this. I can’t even understand how my mom feels about all of this. All I can keep thinking is one selfish thought: “Is this how I will feel when my mom dies?” I haven’t cried for my grandmother. I don’t even know her except for a few things we share. We share the same name; we both are deep chocolate lovers; we enjoy reading several books at a time…etcetera. I cried for my mom, and for how I will feel when she goes.
On Thursday, when I came home from school I called her at work to check in and see when she was coming home.
Me: Hey! I’m home.
Mom:…Hey, how are you?
Me:…Are you okay? It sounds like something is wrong.
Mom: No, no…I’m fine. Everything is fine.
Me: Is it something with work?
Mom: No.
Me: Is it something with work?
Mom: Katherine, it’s fine.
Me: It’s something with your voice; you sound off.
Mom: Don’t worry about it….We’ll talk about it at home. Work is fine; it’s nothing to do with work.
She came home and told me and my dad everything. She found out while she was at work and couldn’t bring herself to ask to leave. I can’t believe that she actually stayed throughout the day. I would have dashed out of the office and come home and cried. That’s a strength that I don’t have. Death is a blessing and a curse. It saves those who are in so much pain and brings an end to it. Though it leaves scars on loved ones.
Death and life are not opposing forces, but more of a harmony. One without the other is not possible. They create elaborate webs of stories from delicate beginnings to strong endings. Life is an open door which no one has stepped through yet. Death is a graceful ending to something that was beautiful, no matter how short of a time it was. With each life there is a new story, a new purpose, a new combination waiting to happen. And with each death, there is an epilogue waiting to be written.
The Billionth Thought 