Death, and dealing with it all

Monday, February 9th, 2015/evening

"Well, I was with her; just she and I, when she died."

For the past few weeks, I've been hearing bits and pieces of this woman's health. When she was supposed to move to hospice, I wondered how long she had, but I didn't want to ask. This morning, my dad said it would probably be in the next twenty-four hours. It happened tonight.
The way my dad told me, it was as though he felt happy for her. Peaceful, and still full of optimism. In fact, when he first walked in the door I breathed a sigh of relief, as he merrily hung his coat and put on his slippers. But moments later, while I was reading in bed, he told me the news. 

I don't know how I should feel. I mean, I had only met the woman maybe a couple of times. But she was (is? What happens when you die? Do you cease to exist?) younger than both my parents. Her daughter is my sister's age. The cancer came so suddenly. 

I was crying this morning, after my parents' first visit to her. After the second visit, I was okay, but anxiously awaiting news. The news that arrived after my dad's third visit of the day. I guess the third and last time.
It's not as though I was close to the woman. I rarely saw her, maybe once a year, if that, but it still hit home. Maybe because it was cancer, or maybe it was because my dad has been visiting and sitting with her for the last few weeks. Maybe it's because death is seeming to creep up around me. 

When people find out no one that close to me has died, they are shocked. All of my grandparents are alive. There was a man my mother worked for who passed away when I was ten, and another dear man from our church when I was about fourteen. I've never attended a funeral. But the thought of death scares me. I'm not afraid of dying. I'm afraid of my loved ones dying. I'm afraid of being left behind. 

A few years ago, I was on youtube and stumbled upon a young girl named Talia Castellano. You may have heard of her. She was (and will remain!) a strong influence on many people. Some will say it's because of her cancer, but I say it's because of her awesome attitude DESPITE the cards she was dealt. She passed away in July, 2013. She was thirteen years old. That hit me like a brick. For the whole week, and month, before her death, I was gripped with a fear of her dying, but something inside me said she'd make it. I prayed and bartered with God, begging Him to keep this little girl alive and well. I made promises. I sent her encouraging words. But, on July 16th, I opened my twitter to find out the news. She had died. Initially, I was just so stunned, that I kind of was in a daze. I was shocked, but sort of at peace. A part of me thought and hoped that maybe it was some kind of mistake. But is wasn't. I went about my life, sad, but not torn apart. That came later. The anger and fear came later too. But this too passed. I feel for those who knew her personally. I don't think you ever stop missing someone.

Before that, I found out my cousin had cancer. Serious cancer. Well, what cancer isn't? And then my Uncle had it. He is now Cancer-free, but my cousin is still fighting. Fighting hard.

A man in my church came back from his honeymoon to find out he had cancer. After several months of not seeing him, not since his surgery and a visit to see him in hospital, I saw him the mall in December. He looked older, and like every movement hurt him. He came to church a couple times, and each time, I thought he looked more tired, more strained. I don't know what's going on with him now, but I pray it's good. Even though people have said it doesn't look it.

A few months ago, a woman from my parents' church found she had a tumor in her brain. She's still fighting.

All of these people are fighting. And it's not just cancer. I have several friends who are fighting against their bodies. Whether it be physical or mental, people everywhere, including myself, are fighting. And for what? I know what I want. At least, what I want when I'm in my right mind. And that's contentment. Happiness. Joy. PEACE. When things are tough, like they have been for a couple months now, I really wish God would take my life. I wish I could just throw in the towel. But every time I say that, my mum reminds me, be it in a whisper or shout of desperation: "God gave you breath! That means He wants you to LIVE today!" And it's true. God has given me breath. He gave me life, and every day that I wake up, no matter my mood or state of mind, I try to remember: God woke me up this morning. For every moment He gives, I try to be grateful. When I am hurting, and in trying times, and all I want is for it all to be over. When YOU feel this way, we've got to remember: There's a purpose for us. We aren't just here to take up space. There's a reason we are alive. Even if it doesn't feel like it. There is a reason for everything. In your pain, your discomfort, there is something good that will come from it. I have to believe that. But I choose to, too.