Wouldn’t You Want To Die A Beautiful Death?
By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee
Artwork by Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee… 2012
I hope when I die… it will be beautiful. Do you know when many ‘bad’ things happen in your life… you always worry about the loved ones you have left. At least, with me… it’s this way. I have my husband, three Pups… they are my whole world. I couldn’t bear to lose anymore of ‘my world’.
I think about any, everything. So, if I mention death when I write… don’t think I’m depressed, or going to pieces. Death… like life is something we all think about. We live… we die. Simple as that.
Or… is it ‘simple as that’? I personally don’t think so. Life is complex. We are always weaving stories into the fabric of our lives. No matter how we weave our lives… long or short… we will come to the end.
No matter how many miles we drive, fly, walk… run… we will come to … the end. You can take all the twists, turns… go uphill, downhill… you can’t get lost from… dying. We all have to do it… one day… one night.
At this moment… when I speak of Death… I speak of it in a tone of …. wonderment, awe…. amazed that no matter what… we all have to do it.
I think… okay, if so and so, has already died… and if ‘they’ can do it…. I should be able to do it… too. You see, I’m afraid of dying… that’s why I’m going to put it off as long as I can. Yes, I know that I’m no better than anyone else… to die. Don’t worry… there’s no way I can get out of it… neither, can you.
No matter how I don’t want to do it… one day I’ll have to. It doesn’t matter how big, bad, strong… mean… you are… guess what? You are going to die, too. You can’t control that.
We all hope to die beautifully… peacefully… painlessly when that time comes. Right? I hope to.
I think about my only child, my son… Tommy. When he died, he died in the blink of an eye. I’ve sat, thought about this so, so many times since May 29, 2010… he died … beautifully.
When he first died, of course I didn’t think about such. When a mother loses her child… oh my! I can only speak for myself…
I look back, and it affects me now. I was sucked into the darkness of grief… I didn’t think … I couldn’t. I had … become ‘darkness’… I couldn’t find myself for two-three years. I won’t go into that part… my story for now… is the ‘beautiful part of dying’.
Tommy died walking, running, playing… squealing with his little three year old son… by the ocean. They both would run up to the waves… let the waves kiss their toes. I can see, hear them in my mind… feel the awe, wonder of a little three year old child.
I can picture Tommy looking down at his little son with such pride, joy…. see that special, soft smile in his eyes… on his face as he watched his son’s amazement at how big the ocean was… how the waves came up to chase him back.
All the while they ran, played… they heard the music of seagulls flying overhead… the waves joining in like drums in a band. The wind caressing their skin like silky fingers… soft, gentle.
This is the part I wonder about… did Tommy ‘know, suspect’ that in a few minutes… he would have to leave his son behind… die? I wonder if he had any inkling at all?
I let myself think ‘just a little more in depth’, now…. about this part of his death. If he had two blockages in his heart… he wouldn’t have known, felt anything… maybe it happened in a blink of the eye.
I do know what the last sounds he heard was… the sounds of the seagulls, waves coming in to shore… the sounds of a happy, excited little boy… probably as he died … he was smiling at him, love shining from his heart. I’m sure there was a special light in his eyes, reflecting a father’s love for his child.
I feel invisible hands helped his body lay on the sand… took his soul by the hand… soared above to look down, to watch his little son… until the only people out on the beach that evening… saw what had happened.
They came running to help… When the angels, and Tommy saw his son was safe… they soared high above the ocean, free as the wind to the music of the seagulls singing, ‘Tommy, come home… Tommy, come home’.
You see… this is how I think about the ‘beautiful’ part of dying. We all should hope to … die this way. Yes, I know from personal experience… it doesn’t lessen the pain, grief of losing our loved ones.
It does… over time, make the ones left behind… feel comforted. I mean, who wouldn’t want their loves one to die in a ‘good’ way… a ‘beautiful’ way? Don’t you agree?
Wouldn’t you want to die a beautiful… death?