Dancing with Death

I go with the flow as best I can, acting like its normal

Death has only come close to me about six years ago when my stepdad was diagnosed with cancer. It lurked in the background, waiting for its moment that never came. Now it comes close to me once again, though this time broken memories and minds come with it. My nan – dementia.

It’s hard to navigate week on week. Sometimes everything is normal and flows, other times it stutters like a radio that’s gone static. I go with the flow as best I can, acting like its normal, but it’s hard.

Death isn’t quite as close, but it’s nearby, a certainty that will come no matter how hard I wish it wouldn’t.

I lose myself to anxiety and panic attacks; the picture of the future unbearable in my mind. Memories from the past appear, stifling and crippling me. I do what I can to work through this tumultuous period of my life, but it’s a struggle. Focusing on the positives, on the joy in the every day, only lasts for so long before I’m pulled back all over again.

I can’t say for certain when death will come. It lingers for now, waiting and watching. Its time is coming.

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‘Do you have to come now?’, I ask.

‘One day’

‘It’s part of life’, I say.

‘Yes’

‘Can you wait a little longer?’

‘I cannot give you that answer’

‘I’m not ready’

‘No one ever is’, Death replies.

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We’re not taught how to deal with grief and death, including the bit before and after. The best we can do is muddle through and allow time to heal the wound. From what I know and understand, we carry it with us, we learn to let it in and become part of us. It’s different for everyone. The one thing we can be sure of is we will get through it in our own time and at our own pace.

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