At a loss

The sun came out this weekend. Okay, it was just for one day but it was a good day.

Sadly, the sun was soon followed by grey overcast clouds, not just in the sky, but in my life as well. My wife and I experienced a death in the family this weekend. A much loved grandmother passed away. Just two months ago my grandfather passed away.

No one said life was going to be easy, and it has proven to be difficult in the past few months. We have, however, had joyous news as well. The happiness I felt upon the news that my wife and I are expecting a child is hard to put into words. The holidays with friends and loved ones, our health and good welfare are always things that I am thankful for.

I consider myself lucky. I am almost 34 and have had to attend only a handful of funerals. My life's been generally free from great hardship, yet the death of a family member always manages to knock me back.

I am fascinated with how varied reactions are to death. Some cry immediately, others not at all. Some find it necessary to become busy doing what they can to help. Others reminesce. All of these reactions are very normal, or so they say, but none of them ever feels right for me. I tend to feel awkward. Perhaps it lies in the fact that my usual reaction to stress is to smile, joke or to try to find the humor in hard times, but death offers little opportunity for this outlet. Death steals from us not just a loved one, but our senses. Numbing us ever so briefly as a faint homage to the one who has just passed.

When I was a teenager, I had a cavalier attitude towards death. I logically concluded that it was the one certainty for all living things and therefore should not be feared. But as I've grown older and slowly closer to the day when my own end will come, the passing of others is a painful reminder of our mortality, of the brevity of this world. Truly it is overused and often misused but carpe diem is what comes to my mind upon death. But it is not the shouted, full-mouthed belting, "Seize the day!" - rather, it is a faint and constant whisper of wind gently blowing through the leaves, easily not heard, easily ignored, too easy to set aside, but always there... "seize the day."

I miss my grandpa, my grandma, my aunt and cousin. They will forever be missed.

In memory of all those who have left this world.