Death

My grandmother passed away two weeks ago. She was 100 years old. That’s a lot of years. One could do a lot of things in a century. My grandmother did. But during her funeral and her wake, people didn’t really talk about the stuff she accomplished or even her bucket list. What people talked about was how she made people feel and how kind and loving she was.

In a culture that’s obsessed with showing everyone what we’re eating, how much weight we’ve lost, what we’re doing, where we’ve travelled and what things we’ve ticked off our bucket list, the death of someone close to us reminds us of what truly matters. And in the end it really boils down to the people we love and who love us back and where we believe we go after death.

My grandmother’s death is the first death in the family that I’ve experienced as an adult. Because of her advanced age, the circumstances surrounding her peaceful death, my maturing faith and my relationship with her, it is the only death where I’ve ever felt completely and truly grateful for her life and, well, her death. In her case, death was not something to be feared or anxious about, it was simply the next step, one more adventure before her next big adventure.

And in my heart, there is more joy thinking about where she will be going than sadness in missing her. Which is not to say I did not cry or have not grieved. I am still grieving. It’s just that I am learning that gratitude can be very much a part of grief. After all, we cannot grieve the loss of something we are not truly grateful for.

With her passing, I have seen that death is not just the end of life but a part of life. This acceptance comes with the faith that more than anything else, Someone who loves us waits for us after death. And beautifully enough, this faith was passed on by my grandmother to my mother, who passed it on to me.

I did not think I would ever learn to be grateful for the experience of death. And yet here it is. I am grateful for my grandmother’s life. For the love and support of family and friends and even strangers in these difficult times. For the faith that endures. For the desire to love even more those who are still with me in this life. And for the Giver of all good gifts.

There’s a beautiful quote from St. John of the Cross that stays with me: “In the evening of life, we will be judged on love alone.” “On love alone,” he said. On love alone. But love has always been more than enough.