Rest in peace sweet soul...David Bowie has left this worldly realm and gone on to the next great adventure. I have been listening to him through the years since about 1969 I think... and I know that the world will never forget him. Fly on, David...fly on.
"Look up here, I'm in heaven," sang David Bowie on Lazarus, one of the songs released on his final album, Black Star, which came out on his 69th birthday -- just two days before his death on Sunday. "Oh I'll be free. Ain't that just like me."
Ah, the world is full of it. Full of disease, full of heartbreak, full of the unimaginable. Sometimes I think of the people in the 1700's and how they rarely lived past 40 and maybe that's not such a bad thing after all. We, on the other hand, have desperately chased every possible opportunity to stay on this planet as long as we can. I'm not saying I want to die, but maybe the realm of man NEEDS to be shorter. We can do less damage that way. I just read an article (about 4 months old) about the mass killing of feral cats in Australia. By poisoning with a gut wrenching poison--drawn out horrible way to die. My God...Hopefully, the rodents (that are NOT in the government) will run out of control and show them that there is a balance in the world. I am watching my sister-in-law ie of brain cancer, and they have finally stopped all the madness of treatments and experiments (that did maybe give her an extra year or so to anticipate the end-- is that a good thing ? I don't know). I have watched several people die long drawn out deaths thanks to the miracles of modern medicine. And the good news is, you don't really get to choose. Much. I could be wrong here, but I feel like my family was bullied into all this time of clinical trials and new drugs...holding out an insidious carrot of hope that MAYBE a miracle could happen, while at the same time saying that this aggressive cancer is fatal. It was almost passive aggressive at times. Until finally, my sis said--no more. No more. And even then they wouldn't just let it drop and respect her wishes...until they said a lot more things trying to convince her husband and children to do one more thing, just one more. And when they wouldn't budge said...well, we always told you this was fatal. The hospital systems in this country are abominable in their business first dealings. It hurts my soul.
I am so full of thoughts today about living and dying and hope and despair. Not my usual genre of writing subjects. I have had a year of remarkable losses and still as much joys...little packets of joy that drop around me. I can pick them up or not. Small miracles and devastating realities. Not that miracles are not a part of my reality, because they truly are. I am incredibly grateful for that. I was listening to an old interview with natalie Cole --daughter of nat King Cole-- last night with Tavis Smiley on Public Radio. She died on New Years Eve from IPAH...an idiopathic hypertension disorder, She had a kidney transplant about 10 + years earlier. It was so refreshing to hear her saying that her getting a kidney that was donated directly to her was a miracle, and that God had things she still needed to do, and messages she needed to spread. She was a remarkable singer too. I have lost family members, fur babies and friends this past year. And it isn't over yet.
And I guess that this is the way of life. And the older I get, the more people I will have to learn to live without. And the trick is keeping my heart open, no matter how badly it is broken. Remembering that learning to let go of the ones I love will always break me a little...and a little more...and that has to be where the light comes in. And I will learn to be better at letting go. And keeping in mind that my needs are not the most important. That sometimes people need to not suffer anymore. They need to not be forced to stay here and be subjected to one more minute of anything, just so I can not be without them. To learn the compassion that comes with life on life's terms. To remember that we are all stardust....
Namaste.
6 comments:
A very thoughtful, sensitive post, Annie. We, too, lost someone near and dear (and way, way too young) recently. The prognosis almost from the word go was bad and she suffered terribly. It shouldn't be that way.
We are from the stars, we are stardust, we go back to the stars.
Aging changes our perspective for sure. Sometimes I am affected by loss that is not connected to me.
In my opinion much of our medical system is off track, and has nothing to do with caring for a patient.
We do what we can to help. Sometimes we are sad of life, but we rally, we must!
((hugs)) to you.
Sandra Nobles Hagan Facebook
thewildmagnolia-ocala.blogspot.com
Please go read "Being Mortal" by Atul Gawande. I've just read it for the second time and find it to be so very comforting during my own losses. Blessings to you, Annie.
Death is the culmination of a life lived; that is inevitable. I too hate losing those I hold dear, but there is little I can do about it. Oh, I can cry and cuss and rant and rail but that changes nothing. Maybe it releases some feelings, but eventually I realize that I can only accept and move on. Having had a death/resurrection experience myself, my attitude has changed. Having a glimpse of the other side gave me a sense of peace and even anticipation. I have suffered through this life and am anxious for the next chapter of my existence. I won't preach, but being at peace with the God of my understanding has removed the fear. The sorrow of loss is still something I must endure but the realization that the loss is mostly about my comfort makes it easier to let go.
Don't really know where I was going with this and am probably off topic. But this is where my mind has gone.
What a steep, tough, impossible learning curve you've had recently, Annie. I live in such dread of loss and have to keep trying to just accept and open to possibilities and the reality of change. But something about David Bowie's magic touches all of us -- as an 11-year-old I listened to this strange sexy faraway being and my own small constrained world opened up.
As always I wish I could sit at the kitchen table with you over coffee and something delicious, just old friends together. All my love to you and your precious SIL. I RAGE about so much that passes for cancer treatment and sooner or later more of us will learn to take back our right to die in a humane way. But I know that faced with losing someone I love, in terror I would probably also be swayed by thin promises and medical authority.
Courage and strength to you.
Hi Annie. I am all caught up since Thanksgiving with your posts. You have had a lot of loss around you lately. But I am glad you got the knee replacement and will be able to get the other one done pretty soon. You are so right. The world is filled with sorrow and joy. Small miracles. Deaths. The medical community should let people die as they wish to die and be honest with them and their families. We really need to be advocates for each other when we can. Sad times. *love and hugs*
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