A couple of days ago I wrote about the closest topic I’ve seen along these lines, which still involved ways to find a silver lining in the struggle. Obviously, it’s a very necessary part of such a diagnosis. But it’s still about hope.

But today I came across an interesting essay, penned by Monica Sanford, a graduate student at the University of Nebraska-Lincoln, that is forcing me to look at another reality of mesothelioma. Its title, “Inevitability of death leads to freer living,” was immediately arresting. The author jumped right in with, “I thought I should write about death.” She went on to share that she has recently lost three people very close to her in fairly rapid succession – a paternal grandmother, a maternal great-grandmother, and her dear friend, Marilyn. Marilyn died of peritoneal mesothelioma at age 47.

As she ponders the very different lives and deaths of these people she loved, Monica wonders at a common thread – all knew they were nearing death, two as a result of illness, the other just sensing her time was nearing an end, even sharing with her great-granddaughter just a month before her death that she had walked with God, who showed her a waiting heaven.

That’s a truly unique aspect of this diagnosis. The knowledge, the clarity, the preparation for death. Everyone knows they will one day die, of course, but that day is always a long way off. Illness of this kind brings it into sharp relief.

In the post I wrote a couple days ago about silver linings, most people said the one thing they could credit their disease for was giving them a sense of the value of their time on earth. That knowing their illness was diagnosed as terminal gave them often times a will to fight harder and stay longer, because they saw with new eyes all the things they really wanted before they would be ready to go.

There’s a saying, “live each day as if it was your last.” But in the everyday hustle and bustle, it’s so hard to keep that in mind.

Monica’s essay reflects on faith, traditional Christian faith like that of her great grandmother, as well as her own, different, Buddhist perspective, and observes the different ways that her family members mourn, or celebrate, or deny at a loved one’s passing.

In the end, she finds that, for her, “The one thing I have that helps me cope with death in my life is not faith or family or hope. It is acceptance. Death is. Just like life is. Neither is good nor bad – they just are.”

But still, it hurts to let go.

SOURCE: myMeso › The inevitability of death