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If I die young
Bury me in satin.
Lay me down
On a bed of roses.
Sink me in the river, at dawn.
Send me away with the
Words of a love song.
~ The Band Perry
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Mortality is a fact of life. Some people think about it. Some don't. I do.
In our petty North American culture of speak-your-mind-without-offending-people-or-pushing-your-belief-system-or-generally-disturbing-the-facade-of-peaceful-rich-white-life that we spend millions of dollars and thousands of hours trying to keep strong, subjects like death and sex have no room to be anything but scary topics banished to the broom closet only to be dragged out at 'appropriate' times like premarital counseling and writing of wills. In other cultures (thinking Europe here), they take on an entirely different connotation and people *gasp* ACTUALLY TALK ABOUT THEM.
Several unfortunate and sad recent events have, however, brought the fragility of life to the forefront of public discussion. It is becoming apparent to everyone that your perfectly scripted and manicured existence can be irrevocably shattered in an instant, and sometimes there is nothing you can do but stare death in the face. Do we know how to handle it? Do YOU know how to handle it? I really don't think most of us are ready to face that reality ahead of time... I also think 'ahead of time' is the best time to be ready.
Confession time: I have, for the past (almost) decade, believed...and still do... that I will die young. Of course that term is relative, so let's say before I'm forty. There is no particular reason, although there are contributing factors - namely that I have diabetes (which I will admit that I often manage much more poorly than I should... But that's another story. Message me) and also that I am pursuing a career that will quite likely take me to places where I will become a target of unnamed groups with guns and keys to the local impoverished, torturous jail. Mostly though, it's just a gut feeling.
I'm not bothered by the fact that I'll die. Everyone does, and I'd rather die early fighting for justice and showing love to troubled people than in my eighties or nineties never having lived the life I dream about now. Ever since I can remember, even before choosing journalism as a career, I decided I wanted to die saving someone else's life. I have watched hundreds of crime fighting shows and action movies imagining myself jumping in front of the bullet or pushing the character out of the way just as the car hits me. Maybe that's weird, but if the opportunity ever arose where it was my life against someone else's, I'd rather die for them and by imagining it I figured I wouldn't feel afraid when the time came.
What does bother me are the people I know who I (metaphorically speaking, of course) would miss. You always hear about people who lived wishing they could've spoken to the person who passed just one more time, said that one more thing... What if we reverse it? What if the person dying never got the chance to say everything they needed or wanted to say before their life ended? Terminal patients talk about this often, but I'm thinking more along the lines of a drive by shooting or a car accident. Or even if you, or someone you love, just relocates or circumstances change and you don't get to tell them how much they meant to you. What then?
My dilemma.
Especially in the wake of the shootings and the bombing in the States over the past year... I've made the decision to take every chance I have to let people know I love them and why I do. Because things happen, and if my gut feelings are true and I do die 'before my time' I want those people to know beyond a shadow of a doubt how I feel about them. Why is that a dilemma? I know you're asking. In itself, it is not; the dilemma is how much is too much? One text a week saying I love you? A Facebook message after a month or two telling you how amazing you are and that I'm proud of you and proud to be your friend? If you're going through a rough time, is a daily reminder of why you're a blessing going to get annoying? What about a letter once or twice a year detailing what you mean to me and why?
I have done all of these. Some were well received, others weren't. Some have no reply, even months after I pressed the Send button. Other people... and these are the ones I'm most worried about... Seem to appreciate them less and less over time. I try not to get overwhelming or annoying, but there are just times where I feel really strongly that I need to let my loved ones know that I love them; to confirm that they matter in case something happens to me or the relationship, in case it's Game Over and I don't get another turn. Maybe it's because I need to be validated in my friendships and by validating others I hope to get it in return. Maybe it's because I believe I won't last. Maybe it's something else entirely that drives this message madness... Maybe it's a combination of all of those.
Maybe it's good, maybe it's bad... but I'm done with maybes. So if you're out there and I annoy you, I'm sorry... and I'm not sorry. You see, I'd rather err on the side of you knowing then for me to walk out the door tomorrow and tragically die, not having told you how much I love you.
