Illustration by Catherine Chan
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How does one keep living when those around me keep dying? That’s a question I’ve been asking myself a lot lately. I’m 66 and would have never thought at my age I would be surrounded by the death of so many loved ones.
As we get older, more and more friends and family members die. That is a given, I suppose, but what is not so clear is how this affects us and how we readjust our attitudes about living. Ultimately, how do we reconcile with death and keep on living?
In the past nine years I’ve lost my husband, mother-in-law, sister, brother, three brothers-in-law and my son’s partner’s mother. Not to mention both my parents who died young. The last few deaths were unexpected and hardest of all because of this.
People tell me this leads to a better appreciation of life. Does it? I still can’t answer for certain, although I try to convince myself of this. Some take the approach of living life to the fullest. Why deprive oneself of experiences? Take advantage of all that life has to offer, people will chime in. If I want to travel I should. If I want to buy something I should. If I want to party it up then I should. Who knows how long we have to live? Unfortunately all of these “shoulds” get in the way of truly living.
Ceding control when my child was in the ICU felt like the most honest form of love
Instead, all of the death around me is teaching me to slow down and appreciate all that life has to offer. Slowing down and savouring each moment, day, week, month and year is the opposite of what one would expect a mindshift to be. I have become increasingly preoccupied with ignoring this false sense of urgency. How does one slow down? How does one grapple with the fragility of life?
One way I’ve discovered is to integrate an aspect of each person’s passing into my own life. This helps me slow down as I resist the urge to speed up.
From my husband, I learned to keep a focus on living. He used the analogy of learning to run and said it was easy. I only had to tie my shoelaces and put one foot in front of the other. I see this as a metaphor on life – one foot in front of the other.
One of the last things my brother said to my sister prior to his passing was to “keep being you.” This speaks to integrity and standing behind one’s actions knowing they are the right things to do. After all, who else do we have to answer to in the end but ourselves as we look back upon our lives?
When it’s my turn to take that last breath, I want to be able to say I’ve been true to myself. I’ve treated others and myself with respect and kindness, and I’ve loved without holding back.
Joining a hiking club gave me a sense of possibility and joy that has taken me around the world
My brother-in-law whistled while he worked. He was meticulously slow but took in every detail from the hammering of each nail to imagining a space to renovate. Slow down, I tell myself each day. What’s the rush?
Slowing down allows me to appreciate the small things in life: a walk in nature, working out at the gym, preparing and cooking a meal and savouring a coffee in my local coffee shop. I enjoy the conversation and take in the moment like it’s my final breath.
Cooking is my passion where I prove to myself that I can live in slow motion. I’m alive and thriving. Being of Italian heritage, I remind myself that I learned this lesson especially in the kitchen. Whether it’s cooking for myself, family, a special person or hosting a dinner party, I savour the experience from start to finish, slowly and methodically preparing every step, including wine pairing. Those I cook for understand my love of cooking and wait willingly.
As I move forward in the time I have left on this earth, I will heed the wisdom of those who passed on before me: live your life as my husband said, be true to who you are, echo the words of my brother and slow down in honour of my brother-in-law. Slowing down doesn’t mean stopping living. Quite the opposite. It’s about living with intention.
I’ve promised myself that I will have no regrets in my lifetime. And that I’ll live in the moment as tomorrow is not promised. After all, we only have one life. And as we say in Italian, "tutti a tavola… mangiamo," which means, “come to the table to eat.” So gather your community around you, and enjoy each bite, slowly, with purpose and especially with love.
Susan Marchiori lives in Waterloo, Ont.