Sunshine

It's another gloriously beautiful spring morning, even the daffodils look a more intense shade of yellow today.

For so many years now, the sight of that flower has filled me with a deep sadness, most people have carnations or lillies at funerals - my friends and family however, seem to have a thing for the daffodil.

March through to May have so many anniversaries to acknowledge, my mother and I paused for a while during a conversation the other day, in recognition of daffodil season and then we discussed the sobering fact that we're running out of people to loose. I've yet to decide if it's better to know its coming or be woken up in the middle of the night by the phone ringing, this year - this year there are two 'candidates' already lined up and then yesterday came a panicked phone call and a night of waiting. Thankfully everything was ok but I'm beginning to think that I should hibernate until June.

This year however, I'm also more aware of my own mortality. Everything around me is more intense, more amplified and as I've walked past those daffs each day, watching them grow until a few days ago when they opened up to blow their perfectly formed trumpets, I've been consciously planning, organising and making mental notes of things in my life I need to put in order.

I have, what some call a twisted perception of death. I feel mourning the loss of someone to be a totally selfish moment in time - the body is a mere receptacle, a host for a soul rather than the complete person and yes it's painful when someone dies, but that grief strikes me as bitter resentment for the loss of a physical representation of a person rather than for their spirit and while I don't for one moment believe there is a right or wrong way to let go of a loved one, for me personally - death is never an end.

That said, while planning my own 'exit', I'm incredibly aware that every person manages their grief in a different way and it is not my place to impose my own beliefs on those around me - but it's making for some interesting decision making.
I find funeral protocol absurd - everyone has to wear black and be sad? what is that about? we celebrate birth, why shouldn't we celebrate death? There is a time and place for everything, but at my own funeral I don't want sombre, I don't want black and I don't want silence. I want my ashes packed in to a series of fireworks and to go out with one final fucking good bang.

Ok, so the sudden demise of someone is a massive shock - but surely it shouldn't take death to bring forth an outpouring of emotion, we're all guilty of taking people for granted to a certain level, we're all a bit frightened of dying, put what is the one absolute guaranteed moment in our lives to the back of our mind and hope to just fall asleep in our bed, having danced the previous day away partying on our 99th birthday - but we are all going to die at some point, I don't understand why it takes for someones heart to stop for those that care to say out loud the things they should be saying while that heart still beats.

I am truly blessed in my life, it's taken a while to realise it - but even with the crappy health issues and my odd emo moments, I actually have it all. I like me, I'm perfectly content and happy with who I am (even the big feet), I have, not only the most insanely funny friends and family around me but also, 3 boys who are growing up to be amazing young men with their own strength and integrity that leaves me breathless, I'm loved and love in return, passionately, unreservedly and completely. I don't need for anything and I have no regrets.

So when my time comes, do not stand by a wooden box and weep for the body encased within - I am not there, that is not me. Do not grieve for a life complete or mourn the loss of time to say all of those unspoken things. I'm still here, just no longer in direct line of sight and you don't have to whisper words of goodbye because I'm being all ethereal in your secret drawers and haven't left your life.