After all, death is only a symptom that there was life.
Mario Benedetti
Once again, I return to the Weekend Experiences community to participate in the weekend reflection on one of the topics suggested by 
What experiences have you had with the death of someone close to you or a pet - How did it effect you in the moment and moving forward?
We have all had some relationship with death and the mystery that surrounds it. The transition to an unknown state/place fills us with unanswered questions. No one has returned to tell us what lies on the other side when we jump over the wall of life.
My relationship with death, to this day, has not been traumatic. Perhaps that is what has shaped my concept of the moment when life ends. I have a biologicist view of death, I consider it the moment in which we put a full stop to the cycle of life. It is inevitable, and I would say, even necessary. For this reason, I do not feel that the myth that has surrounded it since time immemorial has a great influence on me, and I take it as something natural.
I understand that sometimes it is difficult to describe death as natural. It happens when the cycle of life is not completed, when we ask ourselves the reason for its anticipated arrival, and no answer will seem fair. I have been fortunate in that respect. I might have a different view of death if someone dear to me had suffered its untimely arrival.
If I am asked to tell about the closest experiences with death, there is no doubt that mine are related to the loss of my father and my dearest aunt. I would have liked to enjoy their lives for a longer time, since both of them left lights to guide my steps through life. That is what matters the most to me, because in some way, they are still present after their physical disappearance.
My aunt's was my first close encounter with death. She was special to me. She was someone I liked to listen to and with whom I could converse despite our generational differences. My aunt had an admirable sensitivity, she always had the right advice that did not seek to impose her criteria, but rather to invite my own reflection. From her hand I entered the world of literature, her kitchen keeps the memory of the sweet flavors of my childhood.
At the entrance of the cemetery, without previous coordination, one of my cousins asked me to say goodbye to my aunt. In spite of the surprise, it was not difficult for me to do it, because inside me, I had already thought about every word I pronounced in her last goodbye.
My father's death is closer in time. Despite his 82 years, he was a healthy man. After suffering an ischemic stroke, he passed away 22 days later. The stroke was fatal and during that time, his health deteriorated with no chance of improvement. When the time came for him to leave, I was convinced that it was the best thing for his body, which had not stopped dying slowly, every day, after the ICA. Even so, I remember that when he got worse, in the hospital, I vehemently asked for him to be taken care of. The doctors, who know death intimately, knew that there was nothing to do but let him go.
As I told you, my relationship with death is one of acceptance. As time goes by and the sadness of the moment of loss diminishes, I am left with the good memories lived with those we saw leave. Those are the same memories that today inspired me to write this post in memory of my father and my aunt.
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Translation of the original in Spanish with DeepL.com (free version)
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