June 6, 2009

Wake

If there's one thing that we all have in common, then it is that we are mortal beings. Death is connected to life as is shadow to light. Death is a burden we all have to carry. And when someone dies in our entourage, we all deal with it in our own ways.
Two days ago, I came to know that the father of a high school friend had died. The man was riding his bike when all of a sudden he got a heart attack. He was hospitalized, but took his last breath of oxygen only a few moments after he had arrived there. After hearing the news, I could not imagine what it would be like if I lost my dad. For the last few days, my thoughts were with my friend. I felt a little bad. Mainly because she had lost her dad, but also because I kind of neglected the relationship I had with her. After I had sent her a text message in which I told that I was thinking of her, I decided I would go to the wake. Together with some friends. Just to be of some support.

Meet myself at a funeral.

Whenever I'm at a wake or a funeral, I undergo an emotional feeling that I cannot describe. I don't feel uncomfortable, yet not comfortable. I don't feel sad (unless it's someone I know well), but obviously I don't feel happy. My emotions stay somewhere in-between, as if I am not completely capable of understanding what exactly is happening. I'm in an emotional state I don't have a facial expression for.
Whenever there's a silence, especially long silences, I have the very annoying yet irresistible tendency to start entertaining myself. Instead of reflecting on something that matters, I start thinking about something funny. An inside joke. A hilarious image. Of course, I start smiling. And of course, it is totally inappropriate. After I killed my smile, I anxiously glance round the church, hoping that nobody saw.
I find funerals hard. Not only do you need to cope with a loss of a loved one, but you have to behave according to the rules. With so many rules about what is/isn't appropriate, spontaneous grief seems to be pushed away into a corner, it seems. Almost two years ago, my grandfather passed away. After the funeral service, the family and I made our way to the mortuary, where the coffin was at, so we could pay our last respects. Apparently (I wasn't aware of it at the time) I was standing with my hands in my pockets. But not at all in a relaxed kind of way. It was my way of expressing I didn't know where to stay with myself, a way of expressing that I felt highly uncomfortable. About a week later, someone who saw me said:

"You shouldn't put your hands in your pockets when you're standing next to a coffin. It's disrespectful, you know."

And so I learned another onspoken rule of going to funerals.

Whenever there is a funeral, people speak about going to heaven. I don't really believe in heaven. Nor do I believe in hell. It like some guru in Indonesia once said:

"There's no such thing as heaven or hell. When we die, our souls leave our bodies, and we all go to the same place. Heaven or hell takes place in-between birth and death. It's all about the journey, not the destination"

I like that thought. And I think of it, every time someone dies. We don't get a chance at a second life. So we better enjoy it while we're in it. Right now, right here.


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