Wednesday, July 01, 2020

dealing with accidental death

It's been a weird couple of days. Well, to be honest - maybe it's more about it's been a weird couple of weeks and months where the "normal" has been exchanged to something new and uncertain, a lot of new experiences that aren't what we all are  used to, or even know what they mean.

I'm grateful that I'm part of a team at my place of worship where we contact and talk to people who are terminal and their relatives.
I'm grateful to work in a place where we experience death and have people around who help with the process and help support the acceptance of the grieving process.
I'm grateful to use my experience with unexpected death, and suicide, in my circle of friends and acquaintances for something good as in at least I don't shy away of talking about it, or being there when someone else experience it.
I'm grateful that I have friends and acquaintances who have explained their experience with virtual funerals and memorials, especially in this covid time (it's such an odd, new concept that turns a lot of the old traditional ways upside down)

This is all to say that I'm grateful that I have been thinking about death and what I would like my relatives and friends to deal with, and that I think and hope I'm doing something good for people who are in this situation.

However, as everyone who knows, it's a different situation when you know the person in question. And it's never easy to deal with a friend taken away too soon, too fast, who has her whole life ahead of her.

It's one of those things though, so typical me, that when it happened - and people around me who didn't know her - said "I'm so sorry for your loss". I didn't know what to say. It's part of that I don't feel that it is my loss per se. It's her parent's loss. It's her partner's loss. It's the best friends' loss. It's the universe's loss. But it's not mine as a personal only loss. Only when I have unpackaged this I've realized that it's partly a language thing, partly a need to de-personal the loss. I want to answer them "It's all of our loss, cause she was a fantastic force and would do may great things".

I heard from a friend in the morning, she is dead. I was startled and I cried. I started with the negotiation with grief steps and got a fair bit on them. My issue? (As always) it's when you have to vocalize it to others. That's when it becomes real. That's when you have to handle the fall out and the others' feelings. And your own. When you have to tell others; "they are dead". There is no negotiation of that. And there is emotion from the other person. And you get to face that. For good or bad, you have to face your own feelings in that moment.

And yes. It is my loss. I will miss her. I will miss her laugh, stories, shared happy times with me and with others. She was such a joy and a great scientist. And such a wonderful person. She had a huge heart. And she wanted to make it possible for others to succeed in science, regardless of where you came from. She was a member of SACNAS and her friends there told wonderful memories of her. And she made the work day a brighter place with her laughter and her voice.

And in this covid times, I will have to get over the fact that we hadn't been in the same space since midMarch when campus closed down. It will be difficult understanding she is really gone, I will not see her when going to her lab space, the cell culture hood she used, or that she will pick up the phone - they way we have communicated the last couple of months.

I wish this was a better written post - a well written one to her memory. Maybe in the future I will be able to do her justice in an eloquent post with her wisdoms. Or I'll amplify her eulogy when it happens. But for now, I would like to simply say -

I miss you. You were such a great person to have around and you made life just a little brighter. You were brave and loud and so caring for people around you and for people you didn't even know when you went to the US-Mexican border to interpret for the people needing help. And that you were compassionate enough to allow me to feel that I helped, even if it was only with money and not physically being there since I don't know Spanish and I'm not a physician. You gave me courage and heart to keep on trying to help people around me. And you told me you wanted to be like me when you grew up. I joked it off since I didn't know how to deal with it - but I pulled up the texts and you said it several times. I will never forget you. And I will be an even better person in the future, the person you wanted to be, making you proud. Thank you for letting me getting to know you and being touched by your being.

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