The certainty of life

09/19/2018

I do not exactly recall the first time I thought of death. For some reason, I had never considered it a culprit when thinking about the withered tomato plant in my front yard, the chicken slaughtered for food, or the absence of my neighbor's cat. These aspects of death were normal to me; a part of everyday life. However, it was not until my grandfather's passing that I began questioning life and the meaning of death. That experience taught my 8-year-old self so much about such certainties of the human experience. Since then, I have come to terms with human mortality and have developed peace about my own. I have become secure in the fact that there is so much more to life than death--something less bitter, someone far sweeter.

I remember my grandfather's death day. It was July 17th, 2008. As usual, I woke up at 6 am but this time to the commotion in our household. My grandfather was not well, and my older cousin started the car while my uncles carried my grandfather downstairs. It was chaotic but my grandmother, a representation of a broken calmness, reassured me that everything would be alright. Her words were convincing but her tone was not.

I went about my morning routine. I got ready and met my driver outside at 7 am. Thoughts rushed into my 8-year-old brain as I walked down the steps and jumped the ground gutter.

"Your grandfather is going to die," a thought came. I quickly pushed it out of my mind and forced myself to think happy thoughts.

"He'll be home by the time you get back from school," I thought to myself. "Bedtime will go as always. Grandpa will read to you and scratch your back till you fall asleep."

My happy thoughts were in vain. By the time I arrived at school, I was distressed and on the verge of tears. I could not stop seeing the image of the frail man. Break-time came about and served its purpose as a distraction. However, by the end of hide-and-seek, swinging on the monkey bars and the ring of the bell for closing, the thoughts and dread settled in. I sensed deep within me that I had lost my grandfather, but I refused to believe it. Throughout the ride back home, I was deep in thought and unperturbed by the jokes of my car mates or the efforts of my driver to make conversation. I alighted in front of my house and mindlessly moved towards the 14 steps. Usually, I would jump the ground gutter, call out a greeting to my neighbor from her store, and then sit on the bench outside. I would then wait for a minute or two before shooting up the stairs in a Naruto run. This time, however, my neighbor's eyes were on me from the moment I got out of the car. She seemed extra nice. I should have known then. I moved ahead slowly. I could feel the intensity of her gaze or rather her pity burning holes in my back as I walked away. The distance between the bench and the door to my home felt like an eternity.

I reached the top, swung open the screen door, and entered the foyer. There were many slippers and types of footwear that I did not recognize as belonging to anyone in our home. Likely over 20 pairs. "Why so many visitors?" I thought to myself, consciously ignoring what my mind already knew as fact. I went into my room unnoticed by everyone else since the entrance to the living room was blocked by a curtain. I changed out of my school uniform and was ready to head to the living room when I was approached by two teenage relatives. One was unusually quiet and red-eyed, and the other attempted to cover the truth.

"Go downstairs and play with your friends," they instructed. I watched as their lips quivered.

"I already know," I said quietly.

I pulled away from them. I wanted to see my grandmother. I walked into the living room which was full of visitors who had come to give their condolences. I walked in to see my grandmother with tears streaming down her face and silent words escaping her lips. Upon seeing me, she began wailing and extended her arms. I collapsed into them, finally finding solace and weeping along with her. It was at that moment that I understood the depth of our loss. It was the first time that I understood death and its inevitability. I understood that whether I liked it or not, whether I understood or not, my life as I knew it had changed. I held on to my grandmother tightly. At this point, many of the visitors began crying too. I heard someone say, "Oh poor child, what will you do now?" I had always been around my grandfather. I was basically his shadow, and I had been left to wander without his presence and physical body. Really, what was I to do now?

I had to live! It was not an easy thing to do seeing that my grandfather had always been a constant in my life. There were many times when I convinced myself that he was still with us. In the steady footsteps up the stairway, the jingling of keys which he so often played with, the depression in his favorite seat. It was hard but I got through it.

Strangely, it was at this moment that my family found strength in Christ and in His love! That strength crept in at a time we did not expect and at a time we were inclined to decline. But we did not! We rested, and still do 10 years later, in the fact that Christ has conquered sin and death--these two aspects of life that seem to cause so much anxiety, sorrow, and misery among people! Christ has overcome and so have we! I have come to accept my mortality—knowing that it is the surest thing I know about this life. I have come to accept my mortality because I know that it is not the end but rather the beginning of a true and eternal life with Christ. And while Christ sustains me here on earth, I will enjoy it in obedience to Him and His will for me--without worry of the future because I am most certain in His provision and love! I will serve the people around me with the love that He has given me. I will continue to remind us all of our very great need for Jesus Christ and the fact that He is, has always been, and will always be the answer now and forever! He has conquered death and extends his offer of eternal life through His forgiveness of sins conditional on our repentance and abstinence from sin!

"Just as people are destined to die once, and after that to face judgment, so Christ was sacrificed once to take away the sins of many; and He will appear a second time, not to bear sin, but to bring salvation to those who are waiting for him." Hebrews 9:27-28