The Worst Part About Dying (poem)

The worst part about dying is not the
sadness or grief that suffocates your soul,

but rather the life that continues on,
leaving no time for death to sink in.

It's having to live on even after you watch
your friend covered by dirt and flowers
resting forever in a bed marked by a painted rock.

The worst part about dying is knowing that
your life will continue without them to laugh at you
or to help you along the beaten path.

The worst part about dying is living,
because they had to live to die,
and we have to live even though they said goodbye.

The Worst Part About Dying

The worst part about people dying is living: finding out someone you loved has passed away, then having to go to work or go to school and be productive. Life can't stop. It doesn't have a pause button to push and let it sink in. So, we cry while we drive or cry at night or cry whenever it hits us. Recently, I have had two people close to me pass away. My grandfather back in June, and a dear friend of mine just this week. And it feels the same: random, unexpected. Our lives keep moving, while we have to move and try to deal with the news at the same time. So, everyone dealing with hard times, take a break to relax. Take time for yourself to let things soak in. And may the dead live in our hearts until our last days.

Blooper #54564851846515434217842156

From now on, when life starts catching up, I'm going to think back to Jan. 1, 2010. A day that some people spent in their PJs, a day some people spent hungover or still partying, a day some people spent challenging themselves. My day was the latter. It was a day that I expanded. Not my mind, but expanded my stomach and waist. An attractive thought to many, I'm sure. It was the day Harley and I, with help from Samantha, finally achieved our overall, life goal. And, neither of us had to break up with our boyfriends like originally planned. We conquered. Destroyed. Dominated. Ultimately, we ate! The three of us went, purchased, and ate a TCBY deep dish cookies and creme pie. All while being watched with laughter from the employees. I went with the "take it slow" strategy. A strategy not chosen by my team as they dove face-first into the pie. After about fifteen short minutes, about half of the pie was eaten and, boy, my teammates were slowing down quickly. They took a water break, leaving me still eating. They had stomachaches. Temporarily for the time being, that is. I continued to eat. Taking it slow and steady. Finally, we got down to the last few bites. Harley. Sam. Me. Sam. Me. Last bite. I took it, ending the day with success. We did it. We ate the entire pie. And, the employees were still laughing as we celebrated our success by laying our heads down on the table.

So, when life hands ME lemons, I'm going to throw them back and demand pie. Because I know I can handle it.