Somehow I thought that death was honorable. That death was clean. I dont know. Blame the media, blame the books I've read. It was a horrible misconception.
Because death is ugly.
And I never knew that.
Death is slow. It is disgusting. And that is appropiate.
Because death is the climax of birth.
And birth is slow. I remember when my sister was giving birth. It seemed like forever. Crowded in the waiting room of a hospital. Pacing with a styrofoam cup full of lukewarm coffee. It is agnozing to wait. To feel that anticipation of the unexpected. Boy? Girl? Healthy? Hair? 10 fingers? 10 toes?
And birth is disgusting. I wasnt in the room for the delivery. I came a few minutes after. My sister looked exhausted and damp with hours of sweat straining for life dripping from her forehead. Looking around the room there are fluids--where they came from, I dont want to know! The baby-this new creation, a result of the purity in love-looked straightup gross! Dude had brand new fingernails and already needed a trip to the salon. In fact, he should just go to the detail shop my mom takes the cars to because damn, brother needed a polish and wax.
And yet, the change in my sister's eyes at that moment meant everything. She was no longer the girl I idolized with a sweet jump-shot and killer dance moves. She was a woman I respected and stood before in that delivery room completely awestruck.
Because birth is beautiful.
So this is where I get confused. If we make beautiful entries into this world than why must the end be so revulting?
And it is, mind you. It isnt sweet. Its bitter. But maybe thats just the job of us. The survivors. In death its too easy to manipulate memories. To steal the sanctity of shared sensations. But if birth is beautiful and death is ugly--than somewhere between is reality. is actuality.
Neither good nor bad.
Just is.
Right now I hate death.
I hate ugly.
But it is a wonderful ruler from which I will measure life.
Because life is...
Thank you to everyone for your comments, prayers and support.
Time ticks on.
