Why am I still alive? I am a weak human whose heart can stop at any moment for some reasons unknown to me; for instance, death can happen because of some strange disease which can occur somehow in my body and whose name I most likely will not be able to pronounce, or it can happen because somebody will feel pity for me and will just “help” me to die. I would like that instead of experiencing another exquisite way how death can approach me. It can come to a person silently and steal someone who is very important for him/her, leaving him/her with the sharp pain with which she/he will have to learn how to live. Death is a thief, my companion and undesirable mentor. It is the reality that I cannot ignore, instead I can accept it and find a way to live with that.
My first date with death was unforgettable. That day lazy Sun let itself lie in bed longer than usual, so people who woke up at this early morning would be able to see only blood wisps of clouds that reflected the shine of the Sun each time when it moved on its lodge. As it happens, I was already awake and was having breakfast, chewing as fast as I could because I was excited to go to walk with my mom and dog. Kesha, that was his name. He was a funny, shaggy, kind, black, old dog that had been with me since I started to understand that those strange, prodigious mammoths who were torturing my cheeks were actually my relatives. Kesha was my first friend, my best friend, but probably that was the reason why death took him away from me.
Just a usual car accident. Big car, small dog, a child (me) with wide, open eyes with the frozen question, “Why?” and a death waving and responding, “Because.” That is all that I remember about that day. I would expect to see blood and guts that a lot of filmmakers like showing in their pseudo horror movies. Instead, there was just all-consuming silence, hanging over the place of an accident, and faceless witnesses, shocked and trapped by fear.
I was a kid when that tragedy happened. Memories faded over time. However, I could not forget the feeling of fear that I experienced at that moment. The understanding that I could lose someone again or die has not left me since then. The fear just hid in the dark unknown corners of my mind, waiting to remind about my inability to escape from the death. My life did not stay still. I was growing up, being careful and trying to avoid anything that could remind me of mortality of my family members. I was escaping from death that could not be neglected for a long time. I tried to avoid watching any films where people would die because they evoked anxiety and a desire to hide under the thin blanket, thinking that this safe construction would stop enemies.
Unfortunately, hopes that I will not face death again were dashed. My attempt to cheat death made it interested in my existence instead. I turned sixteen, and I lost my grandmother. She lived “wholehearted” life, enjoying each second of it. Her smile could solve every problem that was torturing me, and her warm hugs could instantly make me calm. My grandmother seemed unbreakable to me. Death used cancer to take her in a way that was too predictable. I accepted the rude reality that hurt me. Frustration was the word that described my condition. I could only sense and see the world around myself through the glasses of fear. What if others would die too? What if I would not see them anymore? The more I asked questions, the more they dragged me out from the world and my family. I could not handle the thought that somebody else would die. The uneven beating of my heart and tingling sensation in my body every time reminded me that my life could stop at any moment. I did not want to experience the lost again. I was just a weak, fearful human. Why did I have to deal with that? However, I did not understand that actually I was not dealing with death. I was dealing with my fears about what would happen with me after death, and those fears were winning.
People are afraid of death because they do not really know what will happen to them after that. Sunset of their lives inspires terror, forcing them to run away from it. I was the representative of these people. I was escaping from the fears that every person has in order to protect my fragile, fake perception of life from the truth. I was running away from my fears day and night, day and night, until I finally found my weapon against death. It was just a book, a number of papers stapled together that helped me when nobody could. This book, “Wise phrases from wise people,” was about Socrates, his thoughts and ideas about the world, peace, and death. Socrates had first-hand knowledge of this cruel phenomenon, and his reasoning lead him to the understanding that there was nothing to worry about, “To fear death, my friends, is only to think ourselves wise, without being wise: for it is to think that we know what we do not know. For anything that men can tell, death may be the greatest good that can happen to them: but they fear it as if they knew quite well that it was the greatest of evils.” He concluded that people did not have to worry because of something that they did not know for sure. I was stressing, without even knowing what will happen to me, and was not able to enjoy my life before the time of my death. I saw everything in dark shades, even though there were not any reasons for me to think like that. What if my future will not be a nightmare? The death may be just a transitional step that will lead me to something more interesting and exciting. Socrates argued that a person is a fool, when he/she is fearing something about what he/she does not even know. He was sure that the right way was just to accept it. I decided to listen to his opinion. I just accepted that death is a part of my life.
I spent a lot of time running away like a child from the truth. I still do not know how I will die, but at least I know that mortality is not a scary phenomenon. It is just a passage of life that people go through; it is like a birthday or graduation from High School. Death is something that individuals cannot avoid, but they can accept. I am not dead. I still have time to find the purpose of my life, have adventures, meet new people and do other interesting things that I will not be able to do after the death. I should not waste my time worrying and stressing because of my mortality. My heartbeat and tingling sensation remind me that I am still alive, and the fact that I will die influences me to value my ability to live even more.