Death: a Reoccuring Frontier

I have been fascinated by death most of my adult life.  Unlike most people, I am not very worried about what comes after death for the dead.  I am curious about it, but I have a healthy curiosity about most things.  I am fascinated by whether or not the individuals who died knew how the people in their lives felt about them.  I also wonder if those who died accomplished most of what they set out to do.  Finally, I am curious about what regrets the living have about missed opportunities to interact with the those who died.  This quote by Harriet Beecher Stowe has always hit home for me: 

"The bitterest tears shed over graves are for words left unsaid and deeds left undone."

The start of this fascination with death can be traced back to a student who died when I was at Hamline University named Ross Filson.  His memorial service was the first one I had ever seen and really had a profound impact on me.  I knew Ross, but not like the people who spoke.  So many students were deeply hurting and clearly Ross had a powerful impact on their lives.  By dying unexpectedly, I am pretty sure he did not know fully how deeply he was loved.  I have since  experienced a number of memorial services for those who died without warning and the overall sense of grief is compounded by the sense of unfinished business.

I think part of this fascination on my part comes from a reoccurring uncertainty I sometimes have about where I stand with people.  I know I am respected by most, well liked by many, and loved by some, but like most people I am also capable of frustrating and upsetting those around me.  This will cause me to wonder about how the short term and long term impacts of my bad moments measure up against my better ones.  On my best days I do not worry much about this, but it does come to mind from time to time.

 

I also wonder if I died today would the people is my life know how I feel about them.  Did I live both in the moment and with my eyes on the future?  One never knows if the next car ride or night of sleep will be the last and I am bothered by the idea that I might not get the chance to let someone know how I really feel about them.  I also worry that I could miss the chance to follow my dreams or the opportunity to help someone else reach theirs.

 

On Thursday this past week I saw people at their best in honoring the living.  Someone I know is making an important employment transition and those of us not leaving took the time to share with this person how we felt about her and the impact she had on our lives.  If she was not leaving her position, would we have taken the time to do this?  Probably not.  On Friday, a local radio personality in the Twin Cities, Dark Star, died unexpectedly.  As I listened to the radio discussing his death, unable to turn away, I was struck again by some old feelings that come up whenever people die.  Did Dark know how others felt about him?  Do those that loved him regret not saying they did?  When I am gone how will my legacy and life be measured by the people close to me?