As those who follow me may be aware this age year is an age year of reflection. I am the age at which my father passed away. As a runner I seem to be in better physical shape than my father was at this age. While his risk at my age was a heart attack, my larger risk this age year is the traffic I joggle in amidst on an evening run.
This evening was a particularly poignant nightfall. As is the custom I headed to the state morgue to join family in keeping watch until an off-island brother can arrive for the funeral. I had been visiting when I could over the past few evenings. I knew those who came and went, and how they were connected.
Tonight when I arrived at the morgue the faces there confused me. They were from other connections. I gradually realized some were connected to the passing of a wonderful wife and loving mother I heard about earlier in the day. Her remains were in the morgue. There were other faces there, friends and family, that did not fit into either of the deaths I knew of. And I saw a third coffin.
I learned that a third friend had passed away and that the remains were also there at the morgue. The third friend was someone who had come many years ago to Pohnpei and had made Pohnpei their home. A family who had hosted them in their early years on Pohnpei sent members up to note that they would handle the burial. The family even noted that Mwohnsapw Isipahu was awaiting the arrival of the deceased. I was comforted by the love shown.
In this age of social media I am more aware of the passing of the loved ones of friends. People I might not directly know, but whose passing directly impacts people I do know. There are not more people passing away, social media simply surfaces deaths more efficiently than I would normally stumble across.
When the funeral is far away I always wonder what I can to be of comfort. As do others, I offer my prayers and condolences. These are what I can do yet they seem insufficient – a friend who recently lost their father said that a memory will return to their mind unbidden and then they fall to a million pieces all over again at the sense of loss. The living are left to comfort those whom the deceased is survived by.
While this is an age year of reflection and contemplation, and few know when they’ve seen their last sunrise, I expect to see a good many sunrises to come. Still, I will leave this suggestion, should you be around in some future decade when my passing surfaces on social media – when you are wondering what to post or perchance do, to go out and run a mile. Run a mile and lose yourself in thoughts of those you’ve known, those you’ve loved, and have lost.