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Death and Emergency Vets

2/9/2012

1 Comment

 
Two things happened yesterday.

One, I got a phone call about a girl I knew from school (who was a friend of my little brother) notifying me she'd bee killed in an accident while holidaying in Zambia. The second, my Lucy dog ate a WHOLE box of ratsack, and I ended up taking her to the 23 hour emergency hospital in Homebush to have her stomach pumped. Big thanks to the Animal Referral Hospital, because I would have been screwed without them. I had nothing to induce vomiting myself, and she had eaten a whole packet. She would have been in a lot of trouble. 

So, about first. When someone dies, it feels so surreal. Like you imagined it or dreamed it. I had a dream once my friend's hubby died and it took me a good couple of hours to shake off the feeling. But he didn't and everything was fine. You forget that we die. Accidents happen or the body gives out. Then you're reminded one afternoon, sitting at your computer.

I bet, if you lined up all the kids you knew in high school and you were asked to pick out who you'd think would not make it to old age, you'd be completely wrong. It's almost never the ones you think it would be. You'll almost never find yourself answering, "well, we saw that coming, didn't we?"

I have a cousin who has been taking drugs for many years. Admittedly, I haven't heard from him for almost 3 years now but the future didn't look promising. He'd lie, cheat and steal and was graduating to more and more serious stuff. Sure as shit, that kid will be walking around in 10, 20 years time. But this girl, Sarah. 22 years old. Cheerful. Fun. Friendly. Kind. Adventurous. She's no more.

I guess she died doing what she loved - she was on an Adventure. Hiking around Africa. 

A lot of the FB messages are claiming God took her, and that she died too soon. I have this theory about the whole, "too soon" thing. The way I think about it, her life wasn't cut short. She was always only going to live for 22 years. But in that 22 years, she lived a lifetime. Maybe, everything she needed to do, she'd done. She'd touched the right people, saw what she needed to see, made differences only she could make. Some people need 73 years to do it. She only needed 22.

I got this theory from a friend, when someone he knew died of an asthma attack at 13. Everyone raved how he was such a good kid, so generous and kind. How his life was cut short. And my friend commented, to know him he seemed like the person who'd already lived a lifetime, and he only needed 13 years to accomplish it. It makes the whole dying thing a lot easier to deal with (for me personally). I hate the thought that she was punished and taken away, those around her were punished and now can never see her again. I guess it's unfair that she died so young. But it's much nicer to focus on when she was alive. 

But I have never lost a sibling, or a best friend or a daughter or a parent. So I can't really say what her dying means to them. I lost a friend when I was 13, but it was by no means a close companion. So it may be different when it happens to me. To be honest though, even though I have come to terms with the death of people, animals - especially the ones I care for - are a different story. 

My mum has a photo from when she was a kid, at an Easter Parade. In the photo with her is a boy her age. She remembers exactly who he was, and she'll point him out followed by, "He died", like he wasn't supposed to, and still a little surprised about it.

I think the saddest part is, a lot of people will hear the story and sigh, comment how awful it is and hug their children. But then they forget. They'll forget that some things happen completely randomly. I can probably guarantee though with Sarah's passing someone close to her will change their life. They'll be more adventurous, or they'll change a bad habit or they'll do something they never thought was possible, and they'll change a small corner of the world. And that will be her legacy. 
1 Comment
Nick link
2/10/2012 08:47:32 am

I think your view on death certainly changes when someone really close to you dies.
When my brother died, the first week (if not longer) was spent asking why it happened to him? And maybe even more so, why did it happen to us? That probably sounds selfish, but it comes down to the logic that because he had passed, he didn't feel the pain we were feeling.
But after a while, I sat back and looked at the situation with my brother. You know Meags that he was our foster brother, but it didn't really matter because we loved him like he was our own. And he was also severely autistic, but that also didn't matter.
Life was hard, but because there was so much love, everyone got through it.
In the months prior to my brother's death, he was really well behaved. He was doing things independently and was progressing both cognitively and emotionally.
But leading up to his death, he was becoming really naughty again and then, he just died.
It makes me think that he passed to not only make my mum's life easier, but because he had lived out his life, like you state in your blog.
He had touched so many people (if the funeral turnout was anything to go by) and had such a good life living with us instead of his dead-shit, pathetic biological mother (13 babies all in foster care and counting).
And not only did he receive a better life with us, our family had a much better life because we knew him and we loved him.
And you say people leave with a legacy, and they do.
My brother taught me tolerance and perseverance with those with intellectual disabilities.
I know I shouldn't say it, but I was frightened/weirded out "retarded" people, but I'm not so anymore. And neither is my family. We are better people for knowing my brother and that's something we'll always have.
And I am also better off for knowing and loving Sarah, and the kind, compassionate, adventurous, beautiful person that she was.

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