Death is exhausting

I always thought it was so exhausting to live each day with purpose and drive but really its the dead part of it that really becomes the exhausting part.

There is so much to decide, funeral, no funeral, cremate or bury, what to do with all of the person's possessions that had to mean something to them for them to have kept them. Right?

I look at my life and think Jesus God, when I go someone is going to go through my house and decide what my things mean. They will assign a value to everything in my house. Not really a financial value but a value none the less. Does the jar of corks by by kitchen mean anything to anyone other than me? What about the chest of rocks? The vase or the candle holder that doesn't match anything else in my house? My stuff means nothing to anyone other than me and if I am not here to assign it value, it disappears and means nothing. It's a perplexing thing our possessions.

My uncle died...actually he killed himself. He was 67 years old and couldn't bare to go on any longer without his soul mate. I think he died of a broken heart the day she died. My aunt passed away quite suddenly in 2008 after a weird illness that turned deadly unexpectedly. My uncle had to make the decision to let her go...it broke his heart. He struggled for a year and a few months before he gave into his deep heart breaking sadness. He would say over and over how deeply he missed his soul mate but none of us realized how deep that sadness went. As the executor of his estate, I am now charged with making decisions about what things mean. I get to decide what value is on anything he has. It's a daunting, overwhelming thought. How does one even begin to decide what things meant. The pen laying by his check book...was it some random pen or is there some deep hidden meaning behind it that one will never know?

These are the thoughts rambling through my head as I begin to think about cleaning up someone else's life. I can barely contain or control my own life and to think about being responsible for someone else's is .....difficult.

It makes me so sad to think my uncle was so very sad that he couldn't imagine another day in this world. Did he know something we didn't know? We will never know I guess. It's just plain old heart breaking.

I think some days that I won't ever feel happy or loved or valued again and then one day without me really knowing it I do....and I think wow...I never saw this coming. How come he didn't have a moment like that........everybody hurts, there's comfort in the pain but how do you help someone come back from that kind of soul sucking pain that obviously consumed him and eventually he gave into it.

RIP uncle Jack. I hope you found the happiness you so deeply missed.