WHEN DEATH COMES

(By; Charles Sebastian, Cs)

06th November, 2019

I t was on Wednesday, around the fourteenth hour of this day, a

whispering but deafening sound of the life my deceased father

had lived kept buzzing in my head, as he rested unconsciously in his

white painted coffin. It was his last day on earth, but not the day the

precious gift from God left him. This gift had tragically and suddenly

left him about a week ago. This was the day his ashes were to return

to ashes and his dusts to dusts. And on this day, my inner intellect

seemed bereft of reason but it was not totally bereft.

During farewell, a part of my heart was confident, confident enough

to persuade my mind not to have a glance, a glance worthy his last

of the looks on earth, a glance to his dead body. I was worried.

Another part of my heart, the valiant part I guess, spoke to my

confused mind and said, “Whether you look or you don’t, it doesn’t

matter, our good father is gone now. Be brave and be courageous,

look!”. And I stole a glance. I know someday maybe, I will be

sleeping unconsciously in a box, dressed in a black suit like one of

the Peaky Blinders. As dead as I will may be, someone will be afraid

to steal a look to my dead body. I know I won’t know anything, but

what a time that will be, when death comes.

Even thou after I stole a look and not wanting to look again, what I

saw has never eloped from my mind. And it was true, it was him, it
was my father who was laid there, fast asleep, very calm and cold,

and pale. He wasn’t smiling at me anymore, he wasn’t whispering

or muttering any word and I couldn’t hear the famous sound of his

funny laugh either, no matter how attentive I tried to be. He laid

quiet and seemed humble; shrouded in a white linen. His thoughts

had left his genius, his honour had left his flesh and bones, and his

breath had left his mortal pride, and they all returned to where they

belonged. Everything that was to leave his body had left him and

returned to where it belonged.

He was truly dead and the country roads, dusty and dark, painted

with colours of agony were busy taking him to a place he now

belonged, I mean to the place where mortality reigns, to the grave.

The place none has ever reached except for the dead. Sad was the

man behind the PA, and sad was the melody of the music he played

and even the lyrics, which I can’t recall. Lyrics which crammed

sadness to my grieving heart, and to all the people who were at the

funeral, I guess.

Death’s really a savage. This one moment a person is breathing

happily but some moments later they’re covered in blankets, their

favourite people are weeping, they passed on of pneumonia. Earlier

in the morning someone in your neighbourhood might’ve waved

you good day, but later in the afternoon you received some terrible

news of the car crash; your neighbour was involved, they passed on
their way to the hospital, the autopsy confirmed it was brain

haemorrhage.

death /dɛθ/ (noun) the end of life: The disease causes thousands of
deaths a year. Who would have imagined that after centuries of

trailing in agony with the stinging pangs of death, the dictionary

would only have a very short and simple meaning as that one, just

the end of life. But it’s not only just the end, it’s the disheartening

end, the sad end of course.

I sometime sit and imagine of how it feels like the moment and time

when death arrives, I imagine ‘death’ arriving to take a life, a very

precious gem of that person. Limbs shaking, vision blurring, tongue

stacking, so on and so forth. In that moment, maybe, the heart feels

resting from breaking or maybe resting from pounding. And maybe

death’s sound, soft and sweet, like the sound of a cradle song, or

maybe very clear, like the sound of rivulets, entices, allures,

beguiles, persuades one that they lose sense, and power, and

courage to hold their gem for long, that it comes, snatches it and

they lose it. But again, can anyone keep this gem for a minute, a

second or any moment next?

Maybe death comes like a flash, a flash that moves very fast like a

fast-flying meteor, very fast and loud, that its deafening and scary

sound scares away the soul of a person, that it flees. Or maybe it

comes with noises, violent and angry, very fierce and so its rage

scotches and consumes, and dries the springs of life in that

particular person. Just like a river, it arrives to a person turbulently,

to carry away this precious gem, and embraces it and hovers it, and

covers it with claws of destruction and spirit of darkness.

It never comes in peace I think, it fights the soul, and makes it sink.

I still imagine the colours of the dusty country roads when my

deceased father was going down through that road, maybe it was

covered with black and grey roses, but not pink I guess. Hideous,

stinking, mysterious, ravenous, scary, dangerous, saddening, and

whatever that you can add to name it, it doesn’t change the fact that

death has always been having all the ugly faces when it comes, it

has never been attractive. And when it comes, it never comes in

peace.

To some societies and to some people, talking about death or

making it a topic is a taboo and a punishable crime sometimes. It’s

hidden from view and only rarely discussed. It’s somehow scary to

talk about death after all. Contrary to that, I was reading an article

by Malonja M, the Memento Mori, and I caught a glimpse of the

importance of meditating about death or so, talking about it. He

wrote that meditating about death wasn’t intending to encourage

fear, gloom and pain, but to make us walk humbly and justly with

God, giving us the guide to prioritise what matters in life, and where

to focus our energy and attention.

Most of us don’t want to imagine days when death comes. It’s easy

to say it than do it. You read or you hear, someone writes or says,

“make plans and live those plans, that you when you die, you feel

proud. That’s what it means living a purposeful life”. Everyone

wants to live a purposeful life, a happy life and no one wants to die,

despite knowing that death is certain. My writing of this article is not

about to bring back to your memories of death’s certainty. But it’s

about when death comes to you, to me and to each one who reads

this.

People can’t easily tell you to include death in your plans. A friend

told me that we should not keep thinking about death, because it is

certain that we’ll die someday. It is just like when you’re a child, no

one tells you that you are going to die, you have to work it out for

yourself. No one tells you that death will come knocking at you

someday, you already know it. You grew up with a lot of

assumptions on death, where the dead people go, how it feels like

to die and you were probably afraid of passing near the tombs.

Because no one cared, knowingly or unknowingly, of how important

it is to know that you will die someday and you need to figure that

and plan to face death without fear when it comes.

People have bucket lists and you probably know the concept behind

‘a bucket list’ right? A list, written down or mulled in your mind, of

things you want to do before you kick the bucket, before you pass on

peacefully, before you kiss the grave and kiss life goodbye. I guess

everyone has a detailed plan of such things they want in life.

Whether they associate them with death or not, they surely have the

plan. Have you included death in your plans? Have you any plans

and who’s the main man that helps you achieve them before death

comes?
Two terminally ill men left with only six months to live, decide to

explore life and make a bucket list compromising all the things they

have never tried before. Jack Nicholson and Morgan Freeman’s

movie, The Bucket List was recommended to me as I was preparing

this article. Edward and Carter make some bad choices and some

good ones. And they ask spiritual questions we all need to ask

ourselves. This article is not about their bucket list or someone

else’s bucket list, or about someone else’s death when it comes. It’s

about yours.

It’s about the bucket list you might plan if you were totally in sync

with God’s wishes and plans for you and for your life. Somehow, we

think God has some pretty outrageous goals for each of us, of

course He does. His goals may take a lifetime to achieve but they

are so beautiful. His bucket list for us may not seem conventional,

but He truly knows how we can achieve everything in the plans. His

recommendations for our bucket lists may probably not include

trips to favourite destinations, visits to famous museums,

pilgrimages to most sacred places in the world or extravaganzas

that will wow our friends. But I believe in them we’ll get to find

decisions, truths and other transformational insights.

Instead of convincing people that you’re a good and a strong

leader, your goal might be to build your family into a strong

foundation of love, unity and trust. Instead of moving to a more

developed neighbourhood, your goal might be to love your current

neighbour first. Instead of sitting down and dining with one of the
celebrities, your new goal might be to break bread with someone

who’s down on their luck and needs a good meal.

It doesn’t matter of your personal bucket list. Climbing the

Kilimanjaro, visiting the Himalayas, visiting the Eiffel or dining in one

of the restaurants inside the Burj Khalifa, and everything that

sounds funny. But no matter what, we don’t have to miss God’s

presence as we plan our bucket list. Have Him help you write it

before death comes. When we finally look back at all that we’ll have

achieved, we won’t be surprised that God’s plans have turned a

myriad of times super and more soul satisfying than anything we

could possibly dream for ourselves. And we’ll get to know that not

even death will be scary to face when it comes.

I quote one of the writers called Jay Payleitner, who said: “In the end,

life can’t be about checking off items on a bucket list. It has to be about

pouring out your bucket on behalf of neighbours, lovers, strangers, and

friends” and that is what will be to live a meaningful life, before death

comes.

Tchao.