Everyone processes grief differently. Many think about their own mortality: how death forces us to live in the present moment.
For me, when someone dies, I think about the people in my life who are no longer here. I often think about my friend GR when I pass by restaurants or bars we used to go to, or when someone mentions his name. Sometimes I laugh. Sometimes I cry. It’s been over a year, but I realize now that love and friendships endure even death.
I told my mom once (I still feel this way) that I would be ok if death came knocking. I feel very fulfilled with what I have accomplished in my lifetime. I have traveled around the world, had amazing school, work, and life experiences, and cherish all the wonderful people I’ve encountered. Mark Twain said, “The fear of death follows from the fear of life. A man who lives fully is prepared to die at any time.”
My mom admonished me, asking how I could think that way especially with Franco. Obviously leaving my son behind would be tragic. I want to be there for him. But I’m also religious, so sometimes I think I can protect my loved ones from heaven above. If say Franco was a teenager on the verge of driving after drinking heavily, I’d plead, “God, give that car a flat tire. Now please!”
If I died, I’d want people to take Franco for ice-cream or a glass of wine (depending on his age!) and regale him with stories of how I used to live off Nutter Butters at Burning Man or how I vacuumed in the middle of the night because that’s what I had to do at that very moment or how I’d ask waiters, “I want the most caloric thing on your menu. Which one is that?”
What is enduring?