tubaart

I have to say, though, that it really hasn't been that bad. Mom's really was a life well lived. She did just about everything she ever wanted to do, and enjoyed just about everything she did. She definitely felt her life was complete, and for the last several years has admitted that she was just sort of "idling" after a long and wonderful trip. She was still enjoying herself, but she felt her life was complete. In the last few months, her health deteriorated and she was no longer able to be independent, and life really stopped being fun for her. She was never in much pain -- she just had nothing more to look forward to except release. She was ready for, and welcomed, her death.

Sure, I'm sad at times -- I miss her, and it hurts to know I'll never talk with her again, but that's just sadness for me -- for what I lost, not for her. For her I'm happy -- and really I'm a lot more happy than sad. She had a long full life, and in the end, the only thing she feared was having a long lingering decline, unpleasant for her and burdensome and painful for everyone around her. Well, she avoided that, and I know was grateful at the end for that.

We, as a culture, really have an unhealthy view of death and dying, in my opinion. Death is always seen as a tragedy, and something to be avoided at all costs. I'm not saying that death is always a good thing -- the death of a child is always tragic, for example, but when someone dies, we put all our attention on the grief, no matter how ready they were for their own death. Death is like the period at the end of the final sentence of a great novel. It's part of the novel, and it would be incomplete without it. We may be sad the story is over and wish it was longer, but that doesn't make the novel sad, and shouldn't stop us from enjoying it.

We make it hard, too, for people to feel comfortable about their own deaths. Death is a taboo subject. People are uncomfortable when someone talks about their own death. Mom and I were lucky in that we could do that. Mom could be honest with me about being ready for death without me being horrified or rushing around to treat her "depression" or just nervously changing the subject. That's something my brother Harry could never do, and so Mom's passing is much much harder on him, and I know Mom was concerned for him -- for how he'd handle her dying. That's why she went out there in the end, rather than coming here or to my other brother on the East Coast. (It made sense for other reasons, too -- but that was an important reason).

I've always liked the traditional Dixieland musician's funeral. There would be a memorial service at the local church or funeral home, with lots of weeping and wailing -- each person feeling their own grief -- being sad for themselves -- for what THEY lost. There's then a mournful procession out to the cemetary, with a band playing a slow dirge (usually a hymn). They bury him and say a few words, and then it's time to recognize he's up playing duets with Gabriel, the band strikes up the same tune, but now in the bright vibrant Dixieland style, and it's slam bam back into town for a round of drinks and stories about the departed.

We need to grieve -- there's no denying that. But it's not healthy to make it our focus. Grieve. Be sad. Realize that you've lost something precious. Then draw back and see the bigger picture. Death is just a part of life -- and it allows us a chance to view the life as a whole. If that life was a good one, then we should feel happy for that -- and I do.

Last night at rehearsal we had a recording session. One of the pieces we recorded was J.S. Bach's Komm Ssser Tod (Come Sweet Death). For me nothing better expresses the sentiment I've been trying to describe than this tune. This is exactly the idea Bach had -- a person at the end of their life, ready for the last step and the final release from this mortal coil. I think this arrangement really captures that feel. For me, playing this last night was a wonderful experience - no less because it was a piece my mom (an old trumpeter) loved as well.

please?