I don't get death

Miscellaneous and Personal Stuff I Must Share
1

[I have no idea what’s possessing me to post this, nothing happened recently. I’m not pitting anything… hell, there’s no reason to really even share this. I’ll put it down to emotional venting.]

I don’t have trouble relating to people’s emotions in general (though I do have a brain that occasionally warps things into insults), no Asperger’s, I “get” everything fine, except one thing. I cannot comprehend the human hangup on death.

My dad died a few weeks ago, now I wasn’t too fond of him, so we won’t discuss that because it muddies the data pool, but maybe a year or less ago my aunt died and I was really close to her. When my mom broke the news my reaction was pretty much “oh, that’s too bad.” Of course, she was really upset so I kept the next part internal “let’s learn from her mistakes and her successes and move on, preferably not repeating the ones that lead to her demise.”

That’s all I feel on death, they’re gone, and the best way to honor them is to remember how they lived their life and not repeat the bad while emulating the good. Hell, I wouldn’t particularly care if after I died I didn’t even HAVE a grave and as just left out in the forest somewhere, at least then I’ll still be of use postmortem. Then proceed to only be talked about when my friends are drunk and feeling particularly nostalgic that day.

I’m more worried about improving the condition of people that ARE currently alive, and possibly preventing more death via various means (including digital immortality). The whole “remember those who died on <x date | in y war>” is lost on me, I just can’t “get” the whole moment of silence in remembrance thing because waiting around isn’t doing much for them, whereas continuing the work they left behind is.

I don’t know what triggered this feeling, I utterly froze at my friend’s (more like an acquaintance) funeral in 7th grade, and became apathetic about the whole thing a year or two later (though, to be honest, I was already showing signs around 9/11 where my first thought wasn’t “what a tragedy” so much as “okay, not good, so how do we prevent more deaths? Stopping to mourn and feel scared sort of plays into the attacker’s hand.”).

Looking around the forum while taking a break from writing I see this thread*:

See, the thread title is something utterly alien for me “they gave their lives.” Great, and they did it so you can continue doing all they things they wanted to do, the best way to remember that is to go DO the things they died for you to do. I’m not going to advocate crossing the road mid-procession like some people in the thread, it obviously means a lot to the majority of people, and it’d be kinda douchey to speak out against it. I just don’t really get the death. Yeah, I understand they made a sacrifice, I’ll be one of the first to defend that, yeah there were some heroics involved, granted, yeah they could’ve lived a full life and done more great things. It’s a shame they died, but the hangup after the fact gets me.

Anyway, I’m rambling now. I’m not sure why I’m posting this, I know it’s not something you can really “explain,” I guess it’s just a vocal expression of confusion for expression’s sake. So uh… discuss cartoons or pancakes or something I guess if this thread has no discussable content.

*I don’t write my threads all in one sitting, and I didn’t feel like integrating that thread into the response proper so I tacked it on the end.

2

Well, that’s lovely and logical for you, and I’m envious. (Not trying to be flip.)

Missing my mother is like being suckerpunched in the gut, just a rushing wellup of memories and regrets and a flood of fruitless frustrated wishing. It comes on suddenly and is triggered by incredibly random things, and leaves a bitter, tangy, salty taste in my mouth, like alcoholic aspirin tears.

Which is strange, because if there is any afterlife, and if we are given any hint as to what it is through our dreams (as so much pop culture would imply), my mother is so much happier now.

And I know that, even if it’s nothing constructed from reason, rationality, or religion, I know that she’s not feeling pain and that’s what’s important, really.

But I doubt that I’ll ever stop missing her or mourning her, and while I hope that the rushes of memory and regret and their attendant physical feelings lessen their frequency (and randomness) I suppose I hope that I don’t lose them completely.

My mom was a wonderful person. Her loss should be mourned.

3

**Jragon ** I pretty much understand where you are. Although having said that, I haven’t had anyone really close to me die yet. My grandparents, on both sides, sure, but I never felt that close to them. About my parents, I’m conflicted - they both did a lot of good, and a lot of bad to me. I guess I’ll grieve when one of them passes, but I can’t be sure how much.

I don’t have kids yet, but if one of my (future) kids were to die I’m pretty sure I would be in a very dark place. Here’s hoping that never happens.

4

I’m not sure you truly understand what loss is. Your aunt may or may not have done things to hasten her demise, but there is no way to prevent death in the end for anyone. Not everyone who dies dies because of diseases of lifestyle or the choices they made. A case in point: we just got news last night of a very dear friend of my daughter’s who was found dead in her dorm room. All we know so far is that she had complained of a headache prior to going to sleep. No foul play (ie suicide or other) is so far suspected, but her autopsy is today.

If you can’t find something sad in a 19 year old’s death, it is I who pity you.

That said, large scale tragedies such as 9/11 I tend to view more abstractly and wish to find the cause and prevent future ones, but I fully understand how people who were more personally touched by such events would need to grieve.
Maybe it’s not death but grief you don’t understand. If so, all I can say is that one day, you will be attending more funerals than weddings or baby showers. That will give you pause, I hope.

5

Let’s say that your attitude with regard to the death of a close and loved relative is rather unusual.

I must assume that you actually never lost a close and loved relative or friend (maybe this aunt wasn’t that important to you, or maybe nobody is and nobody will ever be). Such an event isn’t something people are normally able to rationalize. Grieving is gut-wrenching and uncontrollable.
The death of totally anonymous complete strangers (your reference to 9/11 or fallen soldiers) is another matter entirely.

6

OP, how do you think you would have felt had you Aunt simply disappeared one day, with no one knowing whether she had die, or might be back someday, or what?

Have you ever had someone you cared for move away permanently? How did you feel about this?

I’ve got some (allegedly) abnormal emotional reactions in my profile as well, so I can sympathize with you.

But what do you mean exactly when you say you are “close” to someone?

-FrL-

7

Jragon, grief isn’t about the person who died, its about whose left behind. When my 2 yr old son died, I was devastated. There are still days when I look at his picture and fight back tears. It is like a punch in the heart. My wife’s experience is even worse. (He died 8/1/08). My grandfather died 2 years ago. I was sad but I got over that pretty quickly. He was 75 yrs old, had cancer, and had lived a full life. I miss him but that is where it ends. I don’t get tearful or sad anymore and haven’t since his funeral. I was really close with him. He was the only real father figure I had in my life. My father-in-law died about 3 years ago and his wife 2 years before that. I was very sad when they passed. They were relatively young (in their mid-50’s). My father-in-law’s death was sudden and unexpected his wife’s was less expected but it wasn’t a complete surprise (she died due to complications from a bone marrow transplant). I very sad after they died but got over that pretty quickly too. So, my guess is, you haven’t lost a peer that you were close to or a significant other. It has been my experience that most people are sad at the passing of an older relative but the grief soon passes. Others struggle with the loss of a parent but only if it was a close, reciprocal relationship. Most people experience devastating grief when they lose a spouse/significant other, sibling, or child. I guess you were close with your aunt but it didn’t have the intimacy of a relationship with a boy/girlfriend or a child. Prior to the loss of my in-laws and grandfather I wasn’t sure what the big deal was either and after my son died I thought I would get over that like I did my grandfather’s and in-law’s death but I was wrong. I was able to intellectualize their deaths. I understand, on a cognitive level, that my son is no longer in pain, that he is “in a better place”; however, I still feel sad, cheated, betrayed, angry, hurt, and empty. I still have 4 other children and the experience would be the same if any of them died. I am able to function and enjoy life but I miss my son dearly and suspect I will do so for a long time.

8

Don’t you even miss people when they die? Even if I believe that they’re in a better place, well, good for them, but it still hurts like hell that I’ll never see them again. Selfish, yes. Realistic, of course!

9

It is not only losing that person, but the learning to live with that loss that is so difficult. If you look at your family and friends as a mosaic, every time one of them dies, a piece of the mosaic is gone, never to be replicated (although sometimes the missing bit can be “replaced” with someone else–but this is never a complete replacement–how can it be?).
Live long enough, care about enough people and one day, your mosaic will not have enough bits in it to make a complete picture. This is loss to me. If your faith sustains you, I envy you that. If not, (and even with faith), you carry those people whom you’ve lost with you for all your days.

10

Death hits me on all sorts of levels. And all of it depends on how close I was to the person (if at all), or how I perceived them if I didn’t really know them.

If someone REALLY close to me were to die, which hasn’t happened yet, (I still have my parents, my sisters, my wife and kids) I don’t doubt I’ll be devastated, to say the least. The hole these people would leave in my life would be an abyss.

When my grandfather went, I was still a teen, I was deeply saddened, but didn’t realize at the time how much I’d miss him now that I’m grown, and have a family of my own. He would have LOVED my kids. That stings a little when I think about it.

My neighbor across the street just died a week and a half ago. He was 91. He was a sweet old man, and left behind a large family and his wife. I knew him for three years, and his death didn’t sadden me at all, but it still had a profound effect on me. I see the hole he’s left behind, and also the proud life he lived and all the kind things he said and did while I knew him. When I look on his life, I can see how I came in on the tail end of it, but for him, it was the present. It didn’t seem like the end. It will always be the present for each of us. The past always seeming like an irrelevant, yet indelible memory. Nice to have these memories, but they got nothing on the present. The present is where we always live. And one day, the present will be our moment of death. Everything else, your whole life, are just memories now, then lost forever.

Then, there are the strangers in the news. These people I don’t know that tragedies befall. I instill some kind of barrier that guards me of the horrors that happen to these unfortunates. Somewhere deep in my mind, I say, “That can’t happen to me.” But somewhere deeper is a voice that says “It sure as hell can.” When 9/11 happened, that barrier almost fell down completely, as I think it did for most of us. It was ugly and scary and freaky and woke a lot of us up, but made us all so weary, so eventually, you have to build the barrier back up, or you just live in fear or worry or depression. That’s not a good life, and there’s no sense in fretting about what you can’t control. It’s unhealthy. But the painful empathy is there, still warm, like an glowing ember under so much ash.

Finally, there’s me. It’s hard to imagine not existing anymore. I want to leave some sort of legacy. I want to be able to accept the inevitable, bravely and peacefully. But really, there’s a part of me (ha! All of me, who am I kidding?) that doesn’t want this sublime awareness to stop. It’s a cruel thing to know it’s going to end. And the twisted thing is, I won’t even know I’m dead. And that, above all, makes me profoundly sad. And to know this has happened, and will continue to happen, to billions of our kind, makes me all that much more melancholy…

…I wish I knew it will be okay, when our time is up. But know one really does. And perhaps we never will. I keep telling myself it’s nothing to consume yourself with, the final inevitable moments, so I add another brick to that barrier. But it’s always there—glowing like an ember under so much ash.

11

Yeah, I think you have failed to realize how losing someone you personally knew and loved is different from showing respect for people you never met who died in circumstances like war or terrorist tragedies.

When someone gives a moment of silence for a soldier, it’s just about trying to show respect for the terrible sacrifice they made that the rest of us benefit from. That’s just the way that we, as a society, decided was “appropriate” to show our appreciation for the people who do such things. It doesn’t mean that everyone else is personally torn up with grief over the anonymous soldier’s death and you’re the only one who isn’t deeply touched.

But, yes, it would be strange if you had lost a spouse or child and still felt nothing about their death other than logical rationalization.