Death Sucks

Death sucks.

In my tiny community, death has been strolling around lately, visiting mostly older folks. Not a shock, but still sadder than any words I know can express.

Last week, a very fit forty-year-old man I had just met died in his sleep. He was going to get married soon. In 2007, my forty-four-year-old husband fell far and died. He was just hitting his stride. Then there's Sandy Hook.

We all have our stories. And the enormous sadness of being left behind. What got me thinking is the random, sneakiness of death.

Many of us do what we can to live longer - wear our seat belts, eat right most of the time, exercise, take vitamins, whatever we can manage in the hopes we will live long, healthy lives. And science says it works. And we have a sense of control over how we feel and age.

Sense of control. That's good for many things. And an illusion for others. Like when death decides to come knocking. We can reduce our chances, err on the side of safety, wear our helmets when we ski or bike and keep a rubber mat on the shower floor.

But death sometimes just shows up. And this reminded me that in some cases, control can be an illusion. I can control my own actions, thoughts, what I pay attention to. As a teacher, I controlled class after class of children. I was pretty good at it. I control the amount of dust that accumulates on my dresser.

But I am sadly reminded that death will not always tolerate the notion of control. It will just show up. And I'm not afraid.