MOVING THROUGH MORTALITY

Tomorrow we’re going to the funeral of one of Anders’ friends from high school. He was younger than me. 2 years younger, almost exactly the same age as my sister. He was diagnosed with cancer in April and given 4 months, though he held out for nearly 6. I’ve known him and his wife for a little over 27 years. Their kids are the same ages as ours. The four kids have known each other their entire lives. We’ve gone to New Year’s parties with them, crayfish parties nearly every year, graduation parties, big birthday parties for one or another of the friend group that comprises all the guys Anders went to school and was in Scouts with.

The same day our friend died, my brother got the news that his best friend from high school had also passed away. Not a good day.

Here in Sweden, it usually takes about 3-4 weeks from date of death to when the funeral is actually held. It’s much faster in the States, almost indecently fast, in my opinion. We’ve been to 5 funerals since we moved to Sweden. The first wife of one of Anders’ friends, a friend of mine from the American club, Anders’ uncle’s girlfriend, and Anders’ parents. Before I left the States, I had only been to 3 (that I could remember): my mom’s dad, my dad’s mom, and my own dad. I’ve been to one of my mom’s cousin’s funerals, too, a few years back, when we happened to be in the US.

I guess when you get up to a certain age, funerals are just part of the cycle. And anything I could say about it is basically obvious. It sucks. I’m dreading it. I don’t want to go. I don’t want anyone else I know to get sick or die and I know that’s something everyone wants (for it not to happen, I mean), and dying is just part of life, but still.

We’re all on the conveyor belt of life, some of us just fall off before we get to what we had hoped was the actual end. But that doesn’t make it any easier to go to the funeral of a friend who didn’t deserve to go so early. Who didn’t deserve to not see his children build their own families, who didn’t deserve not to grow old with his wife. It brings everything a little too close to home, but I also guess that reminders about our own mortality are what keeps us humble and thankful for what we have, in this uncertain and crazy world.

I’m listening to new music suggestions while I’m writing this, and I keep having to stop myself from fast-forwarding to the middle of each song so I can hear the chorus and decide if I like them enough to put them on my playlist; in other words, get through the songs faster. We go too fast all the time. That’s how we get to the end of all the things we have to get done, all the things we have to do, all the things on our to-do lists. But today I need to be keeping myself in check. Getting to the end isn’t always the goal. Getting there eventually, and getting there well, and getting there together, is more important.

mood: sad
Music: Beth Nielsen Chapman—Sand and Water