THE TRUTH ABOUT DEATH
THE TRUTH ABOUT DEATH
By: Masked Maiden
All changes, even the most longed for,
have their melancholy; for what we leave behind us is a part of ourselves; we
must die to one life before we can enter another.
~ Anatole France ~
Death is always around us, even though we barely want to acknowledge it. It’s
logical to realize this day could be our last day on Earth. We know there are
no guarantees, no beating our fate. But when we are stuck in traffic because of
a car wreck, we are more inclined to yell and honk our horns in aggravation,
instead of realizing that if we had left only ten minutes earlier, it could
have been us. We could have been that departed soul whose body is tangled in
mounds of metal, while everyone else yells and honks their horns, because we
unknowingly have ruined their day, while also saving them from their own
deaths.
I tend to think about death more often than most people, because I have cheated
it a few times in the past. I tend to think about car wrecks more often, too.
My parents were two of those departed souls, killed by the metal and the
impact. And as a doctor for the emergency department, I’m faced with death and
wreck victims every day. Just today, I tended to a seven-year-old boy with only
some bruises and a few glass cuts. He’s alive today because he listened to his
mother and wore is seat belt. As for his mother… and as for his father…
I looked at that boy and saw myself as a child. I remembered how it felt like I
had died that day. The life I used to have no longer existed. It no longer
mattered, even though it mattered greatly to me. I wanted to go back to that
life, even though there was no way I could. I had to enter another life. For
many years, however, I remained in a state of limbo, not wanting to cross over.
It was dark and incredibly lonely. For a short while, it was also violent and
fear-filled, but I somehow waded through until I reached my light at the end of
the tunnel. If it weren’t for her, I’d still be in that darkness.
But now, here I am, leaning against a cold concrete wall in one of the
stairwells, staring up to the top floor. I don’t know how I’m going to tell
that boy the truth. I honestly don’t want to, and if I explained it to Motoki
or Ami, they would understand and do it for me. But the boy seems to like me,
so he deserves to hear the truth from me. And in a way, that’s a little ironic.
When I do tell him, he’s not going to like me anymore.
I sit on the floor for another minute and then slowly stand up, my feet and my
legs almost wanting to refuse. I lock my knees and I try to gather a little bit
of courage before I proceed. Then I look out the small window in the center of
the door and I see the chaos going on in the emergency room… I slide back down
to the floor. At least this boy had a grandmother and a grandfather, who are
both on their way. I’ll give them a few more minutes. There’s no sense in
telling the boy until he has someone to hold him.
I just hope that, when I go home this evening, I'll see my wife and her smiling
face. Because right now, I want to hold her and never let her
go. I just want to forget about death. I just want to live in one
moment, one warm and beautiful moment, for as long as I can.
