little bitty girl

We're having such a great discussion over at our online book club, Ship of Fools, about this book. I wanted to continue some of my thoughts here.

I read this book about eight months ago. I am not sure what compelled me to pick it up, perhaps the interesting title but, after the first page, I was completely hooked. Didion's writing is masterful, so raw and honest in her grief.

Living in a Western society, I find it weird that people are so uncomfortable talking about this subject. They don't believe in teaching it to their children. When pets die, kids are told that they've gone to some farm somewhere. When our pets died, we sent out handmade funeral invitations to our neighbourhood friends. We'd all have a chance to say goodbye. I am glad that my parents never hid the truth from me. We talk about loved ones that passed frequently.

When one of my good high school friends died, there was no more talk of her after the memorial services. It was as if everyone wanted to forget something tragic had happened. It was hard for me not to talk about her. I missed her so much and I would think of her in classes and hallways I had seen her last. At the end of the year when I was organizing a memorial for her for our yearbook and had to get a letter from her parents, I found a kindred spirit in her father.

It was awkward at first, he was hesitant and finally I guessed that he really wanted to talk about her. So I talked about things we used to do in school, the funny things she would say, her dreams for her future. I stayed for over an hour. As I left after a very teary afternoon, he whispered, "Thank you. Everyone refuses to talk about her. It's like she never existed." You know the cheesy saying - No one ever truly dies, as long as we have them in our hearts, they are still with us? I really believe it and silence about death is the true death.

I have a confession. I am terrified of death.

I am always trying to figure out where this fear comes from. I think mostly from my strict Christian upbringing and then consequent entry into Catholic school. In Asia (back when I was still living there, things might be different now), all your transcripts
contained your race and religion. My parents transfered me to this particular Catholic school because of its academic achievements. For some reason, my transcripts got mixed up and they thought I was Catholic and would be made to go to cathechism. Wham! I was infused with double Christian/Catholic guilt and all the beliefs that come with those two religions.

Despite the fact that I am now a lapsed Christian (I abhor all organized religion now, fanaticism makes me insanely angry), I like to believe there is an afterlife. I want to think that at the end, I will see all my loved ones again.

My biggest fear about death is that there is nothingness. Or that there is an afterlife where we all walk around in white robes, and we're all mindless beings. Or that there is an afterlife, and loved ones who do not believe in God will not be there.

I am hoping that as I get older, my fear will abate.

But since death is inevitable, I think my best course is to do what what parents have always taught me. Since we all die eventually, we must make every day count. I try every day to laugh, cry, feel as much as I can. I try to be the best human being I can be. I always make sure that my family and friends know that I love them very much.