An Open Letter From Death
It’s time I introduced myself.
My name is Death. If you’re not familiar with me, it’s ok — that just means that you have been living and haven’t been giving me much thought. I don’t take offense. I’ve been around for a long time and have seen a lot of people over the millenia. My story - is long and that story varies wildly, depending on whom you talk to or which books you read.
The actual time in years that I have been on Earth is hard to measure. Let’s be honest — I’m everywhere, and nowhere. You really can’t count on me and I guess that’s my charm. In the early days on this planet, most people didn’t give me much thought. I just was. They didn’t spend time worrying about where or when I would show up, they just accepted that at some point I was inviting myself over.
It was a simpler time.
These days, that’s all anyone talks about. Death this and Death that. Like I’m responsible for all the world’s troubles. Perhaps I can set the record straight — I’m Death. I’m not a symptom. I am an end result. What I’m trying to say is that I’m not the bad guy here. Yet, you all point and cower when I come around.
What about the symptoms that eventually lead you to me? No, of course that would be too easy. If I sound a little bitter, it’s because I am. There are a million things that can happen to you while you live on this planet and a lot of them can result in us meeting but I am not one of them. I can’t invite you to dinner. It doesn’t work that way and I thought that was clear but apparently, I have to spend an evening blogging here to justify my existence.
Meanwhile — cancer, heart attacks, the general lack of reliability in a human body take none of the blame. Sure, with your fancy medical doo hickeys, you can delay our eventual rendezvous but I didn’t create your inept biological mechanisms. And while I’m at it — what about all these wars that keep my date card full. It’s really amazing how busy I am. Well, I’m always busy but sometimes it’s difficult to keep up with the people shooting and blowing each other up.
I’m not complaining mind you, it’s my job and well, I generally enjoy the work I do.
I’m just not a big fan of all the hate. You can’t imagine what that’s like.
Why can’t people just embrace me? I’m not a bad guy. I’m just what is, an eventuality in your life. I don’t say this to scare you — because you shouldn’t be afraid. Listen — to put things into perspective — in 100 years, you will all meet me. That’s 7.4 billion of you who will know me intimately. Or, it’s roughly twenty six million people every year which works out to five or six hundred people I meet every day. You see how busy I am?
There’s no time for me to be worrying about whether or not you like me. I’m just pleading my case here. If you spent more time living and less time worrying about our meeting, there would be less of your negativity floating around in this place. It’s kind of a bummer, man. There’s nothing dark about me, regardless of what you’ve heard. I’m just a cog in the wheel. Just like you. And that wheel is something you share with every other living being and organism on this planet. It’s a gift, to be part of this vast universe and to participate in the great life cycle.
Alright, I’m getting mushy so — here’s my wisdom for you while you’re still in that fleshy bag of ooze you inhabit — embrace life and you’ll embrace me.
That’s the secret.
I’ve been around forever and it’s always the same story. I can’t say I understand the fear but I witness those who stop living, waiting around for me to show up. It’s kind of creepy and, sad.
I’ll see you soon enough. It won’t be so bad, I promise. I can’t say that what befalls you will be a walk in the park but I come easy. So just live. Live in the moment. Enjoy what you’ve got and don’t be afraid to take some chances. There’s no great conspiracy here and if there is a higher power, nobody’s telling me squat so just accept that your time is just that — yours.
Ok, I’ve got people to meet. You have a great night!
Sincerely,
Death
