“The one thing I have realised about death is that life goes on.”
What do I mean by that? A couple of high profile people have passed away this week, the most recent being President of South Africa Mr Nelson Mandela.
Another was the star of one of my favourite movie franchises, Paul Walker of The Fast & Furious fame. (For my previous post about Paul Walker go to: https://marilyndevonish.com/tyrese-gibson-weeps-for-fast-furious-star-paul-walker-why-men-should-cry/
As I looked at all of the wonderful tributes flooding facebook about Mr Mandela, or Madiba as he was affectionately known, I noticed a post from someone saying that they wouldn’t be posting anything today out of respect.
I suddenly felt bad about composing a post to remind people that they had only another 5 hours if they wanted to book a place on my Mind Body Spirit Workshop that takes place tomorrow. Was is mercenary and heartless of me to be talking shop when someone had just passed away? I wondered if I should sit quietly and have a period of unspoken mourning?
The words that then popped into my head were the words that popped into my head, that day in December 2010 as I stood over my dad’s open casket in the funeral parlour in Barbados:
“The one thing I have realised about death is that life goes on.”
At first it was just a family viewing. We were there to pay our private respects to the man who was now departing this life as we know it.
A little later a woman walked into the funeral parlour with her shopping bags. She placed them on the floor and sat down for a moment. I gave a small smile and nod that kind of said ‘thank you for being here.’ After a few minutes she walked up and viewed the casket and the lifeless body that lay within. She observed him from a number of different angles by tilting her head. She stood for a moment as if in silent prayer or contemplation and then picked up her shopping bags, laden with fresh Bajan produce, and left.
We think she was just a passerby who stopped in to see who was on view that day which I believe isn’t unusual in Barbados as they do like to say a real goodbye to their dead.
I also remember a car that stopped in the traffic outside, music blaring. They were playing a song that a short time before I had been partying to and singing around the house back in London. And then it struck me, like a mini ton of bricks, life goes on.
Just outside the door and these walls life was still turning the same as it ever was. People bustling about, getting on and off the government buses, people out shopping to choose clothes for a night out, children skipping home on their way from school. It was all still happening. Despite the appearances to those of us sat in the funeral parlours, and mortuaries around the world, the world doesn’t stop turning, not even for a second. It doesn’t miss a beat.
So the issue for me that day wasn’t being angry or sad at death for taking a man who should have had many more years of life ahead of him, it was the realisation that life keeps moving on and it was more about of how to make the most of that.
It was also about the legacy and the energy that one leaves behind. Was it a life lived that would be forgotten as soon as the casket lid was closed, or was it a life that made a positive impact on one life or many, that would be remembered long after the soil settled atop the ground?
I remember it was such a philosophical moment for me, and as though there were 2 or me, one me stood in the funeral parlour wondering if any semblance of my dad or his spirit remained, another part of me pondering the mysteries of life.
So of course I have taken some time to remember the dead this week.
I am also mindful of the fact that I am still here and it is always my choice about how fully I choose to live what remains of my life.
The events of this week, particularly with Paul Walker has reminded me that life is short and can end unexpectedly at any moment.
RIP to all of those that have passed.
A life well lived to those of us that are still here.