Death and Taxes

Death is the only certainty, the only true constant in life. So why is it then, that the most constant thing in the universe, shoud be the one we seldom speak of? The control freaks try to plan for it. Cheat sheets are left for a spouse, funerals are prepaid, but can you ever really plan for it? The disadvantage is its success can never be measured, nor can lessons learned be brought back to the surviving. You can plan for a Caribbean cruise because it's been done before and advice can be given on what to expect. Except for a few John Edwards and Sylvia Browne types, there is no Frommers or Fodor's for death and its after effects.

Neither can you prepare the surviving for what it feels like when a heartbeat you loved is no longer with you. It's different in every situation. Why do we get so attached to others in the first place? It seems like a flawed system. We know every person we love will leave us at some point, or we will leave them. Wouldn't it be safer to keep all at an arm's length?

The human heart, for most of us, doesn't operate like that, flawed as it may seem to the logical. Maybe this is the meaning of life or maybe it's our cross to bear. Perhaps the meaning of life is that even though we intrinsically know that each person we love will leave us, still we love. Still we entangle our lives and our hearts with others, knowing that it will end sadly. I find this fascinating.

If we are logical enough to guard ourselves from ever truly loving another person, it is seen by others as a failure, a life wasted. Wouldn't it be more convenient for the populous if we died alone without a soul to mourn our passing? We would not have caused anyone any grief and in our life, we would not have had cause to grieve. It would seem that this would be the most effective way to live and die, the greatest use of time and resource.

In my black and white way of reasoning, you might think I would subscribe to this school of thought. Sometimes I think I do, but my body makes decisions for my brain without ever asking its opinion on the matter. My body responds to my spouse and my children without my brain's approval. My brain would like to keep them at a distance. To observe and admire them like paintings in a museum. I would appreciate their beauty and marvel at their detail, but certainly not become a part of them.

My body, my heart, I suppose is immutable. My body hugs and snuggles and kisses, it cries at the very thought of my family all before my brain has a chance to send a warning signal. My body wins over my brain almost every time and for that I am grateful.