I have been writing a lot lately, but almost forgot about the existence of this blog. I’ve been writing on the subject of death and dying a lot, as well as reflective and academic pieces for my humane education master’s program. On a run today I remembered that I have not been posting here, and decided I would start up again today.
The following is a creative letter I wrote to a recipient that cannot actually receive letters in the mail, as death has no official address:
I write you this letter from a place of cautious respect. It is not yet my time to go, but I can assure you I will be ready when it is.
When that time comes, I promise I will not be afraid. Unlike most people within my own culture, I have carefully contemplated and explored my curiosity of you. I have prepared for your visit. I have lived the best life I could while in this body. I made my life my message. Because of this, I will have no reason to be taken aback when I get the definite diagnosis that signals the end.
It may seem that when you come, who I am will cease to exist. The person who I once was, the body I had, will have lost all feeling. That person will be numb forever, never to return in the same exact combination of atoms and carefully configured electrons. I could also be tempted to believe that I could live out infinity in a pure state of nothingness. But that isn’t my style, I know my essence will return to being everything. I will be here, there, and everywhere. I will be present in the rock in which the bear rests his head on for the winter, I will be heard in the sparrow’s call. I will walk across the thoughts of the people in the world as if I were walking on a bridge.
I may return as a ghost, or at least, I will return as the dust particles dancing in the beams of light coming through the bedroom of a young child, who is not unlike myself at that age. The child may think that everyone can see me, but I will know the child is special. She will have a vision unlike no other, and maybe she will go on one day to die with grace and a lack of fear, leaving the world with the memory that she was once alive. Or perhaps she will leave her mark on the world by making it change in an infinitely small yet progressive and positive way before she returns to the microscopic flecks of energy that float in the air.
I have found my voice, my destiny, in speaking to you, befriending you, and teaching others to do the same. That is my way. Collectively, we can no longer deny that you will be coming some day. It is best to be prepared.
Until then, I bid you ado. I look forward to the day when I can frisk about in the forest of the universe with you,
With love and respect,