What Death Taught Me About Life

Death is a difficult subject.

It had been a while since I experienced it. Endings and loss, yes, but due to death… not since before 2020.

Fortunately.

It takes a while to sink in. It consumes you. It distances itself in moments and crashes like a wave in others- literally like the tidal shore. And sometimes it’s better represented as a tsunami.

In my latest meeting with grief, I was consumed with regret. Guilt. Guilt for the moments that the pain subsided, noticing somewhere I had the belief that I should suffer consistently. Guilt for not giving enough. Or giving more. Guilt from not showing more love.

I didn’t wish I had given less. I didn’t wish I hadn’t had her in my life.

It’s a well-known thought that people repeat: “No one goes to their deathbed wishing they had worked more.” And it’s true.

But I hadn’t been on my deathbed. I had been someone left behind by death- left with the grief of the hole that was created in my heart. Yet I found myself faced with the thought: I wish I hadn’t worked so much.

Recently, I’ve been consumed with keeping all the balls in the air. Work. Writing. Motherhood. Home. Dreams. Aspirations. Responsibilities.

I thought this was balance.

In fact, I thought I was nailing it.

The day of my loss, prior to it happening, I was sat with a frazzled brain that felt like it had suffered a power cut and a blown fuse. And I thought, “I really need to recover. I could do with the afternoon off.”

But I didn’t.

I powered on.

Internally anxious and pressured by the need to get somewhere. To keep everything going. STILL keeping consistency, despite the fact that showing up 100% all the time is not how I function best.

Yet at home, in private, I ignore my own best mode and still listen to narratives that aren’t mine. I didn’t listen to my own advice.

I didn’t rest.

I didn’t stop.

That night, when I experienced my loss, I found myself filled with regret. I had dismissed her while I was focused on work and duties. I found myself trying to remember when I had last given her quality time.

Being around is not enough. I hadn’t been present.

I hadn’t stopped to appreciate and soak up the moment.

We don’t get to live forever, and we do not know when goodbye is coming. There’s no schedule. There’s no commitment. There’s no checking whether you’re available.

It’s gone.

In my grief, I realised that if there is anything I can take away from this heartbreak, it’s that from here on, I can promise myself to really: Slow down.

Stop.

Take breaks.

Take the afternoon off.

Step away.

Notice.

Enjoy.

Soak up the moment…

… Take a moment to notice…

And don’t take for granted believing that everything is compounding and building in nice, neat, linear, developed ways. Again- this is not new news to me- I know life is cyclical. But someone, age old conditioning still functions. Expectations are still programmed.

What you thought would be there for five years may only be there for five minutes more. What you thought might be gone in a moment may stay for a lifetime.

Death- or any loss- isn’t working to your work schedule and expectations. And I have really absorbed how truly accepting everything and everyone, and being grateful for all as it is, however it looks, can help you salvage yourself from regret and guilt when the time comes

It’s not about being present for mental health and mindfulness. It isn’t about working less to see around more.

It’s about full engagement and appreciate to increase our happiness and