O Death, where is thy sting?

i have experienced two significant deaths this year, both of which were sudden and tragic. The first was the wonderful Ruth Oomen. Ruth was one of the organizers of Eastman Youth Choir, a regional choir i was in during my high school years. She was taken in a car accident last winter, and though i hadn't really been in touch with her anymore, it still hit me pretty hard. She was one of the main reasons i took part in most of the choir stuff i did back then. Then in May, Andrew Spoljar took his own life in the midst of a psychological break. Andrew was the brother of my good friend Amy Komus, and he had recently "joined" our little house church. i wasn't as close to Andrew as i wish i could have been, but his passing also shook me.

What hit me harder than both of those tragedies, was when my mother was diagnosed with cancer in August. While it seems that there's nothing to worry about, they're confident that the hysterectomy got all the cancer out of her, i'm still all emotional about it. The thought of my mom having to receive radiation treatment can get me crying no matter how great my mood is at the time. Why is this?

The loss of an illusion can be more painful than we often think. i haven't lost my mother. i have, however, lost the unconscious notion that my mother is immortal. That scares me, i don't ever want to have to face that loss, but it is inevitable. OK, you must now be thinking "Goodness' sake, this guy is morbid!" Well, that is true, but that's not the point here.

Now that i have come to terms with this loss of illusion, what do i do about it? Or, rather, what should i do about it? There's that bit of pop-wisdom "You don't know what you've got 'til it's gone." While entirely cliché, it's also entirely true at times. The typical response to a near-loss of a loved one is to suddenly have this renewed value and appreciation for them. At least that's the Hollywood response, and really, should be the typical response for anyone who has an actual soul.

i, however, have just continued on, in my callous way, to take my mother for granted most of the time. "Brenden! Where is your heart and soul?" you ask, incredulously, "you're normally such a sensitive and caring person!" (now that bit i'm really not sure about, it could be sarcastic or not...) i honestly have no easy answer to that question. There is no one that i love as much as my mother, and i have doubts that anyone will usurp that spot in my heart that she holds, but at the same time she is the person i take for granted the most. Where does this painful dichotomy come from? Why is it that we as a species have a tendency to hurt those who we love the most?

i probably just need to grow up a bit, i know my idealism tends to colour everything i see. Perhaps, it's not as bad as i'm making it out to be, since i do have a slight tendency to be hard on myself (as well as a slight tendency for understatement).

Well, now that i'm just rambling, and seem to have forgotten the reason for starting this post, i will sign off.