I Won't Mind Being Dead, But I'm Not Going To Pass Away

     The heart goes silent. The chest falls for the final time. The blood no longer flows through the arteries and veins. The flicking of light leaves the eyes and the last memories fade from the brain as it goes dark…..

I received a short five-sentence email not long ago. Another high school classmate had “passed away.” And that got me to thinking.

When did it become OK to just “pass away”?

Well, my best guess is sometime in the 1970’s or 1980’s, but there is no credible evidence to support that, just speculation gleaned from a card file full of memoriam handouts dating back some 70 years. 

Funeral home directors are the first to acknowledge that indeed there has been a change, saying that using the term “passed away” is more family friendly. It serves as a transitional gentling, they say, giving the grieving family a less harsh experience with the death of a loved one…it less cold than “died” they insist.

I just can’t buy into the concept. Who the Hell just wants to pass away? It like a limp handshake… “passing away” is so non-committal. It’s more like having passed the green beans at Sunday dinner, or Passing With Care along a stretch of highway, or even two ships that just pass in the night.  

Let’s call it what it is…Death. Charles Foster Kane, played by Orson Wells in the movie Citizen Kane didn’t lay on his passing away bed, or utter the word “Rosebud” as he passed away. He died. Sure, it’s not an easy reality to accept… But there is nothing easy about dying and there is no sense beating around the bush and trying to soften the blow…we don’t just pass away; we die…were dead…it’s over.  Why do you think the grim reaper is dressed in black and carrying a scythe? It not because he’s here to soften the experience…he means business. He’s here to reap the dead, not the recently passed away.

Death is one aspect of life that is non-negotiable; there are no passed due notices, warranty extension, the receiving of a free pass, do-overs, or even playing possum. Death cannot be avoided like relatives that overstay their welcome or that nasty tasting coffee that every waitress in America seems willing to refill on a moments notice.

Death is final….it’s a life paid in full.

Really…none of us just want to pass away or even take a dirt nap for that matter. Who likes the idea of pushing up daisies or sleeping with the fishes?  I certainly don’t want to buy the farm, kick the bucket, meet my maker or take a final curtain call…it’s death and there are no refunds.

I prefer to think of death as simply The End of a journey,  you know, the closing chapter, the final sentence, the absolute last word of the story.  Life presents us with opportunities. We need to get out there and explore and live life to the fullest. That way when the The End comes people won’t just say he passed away, they will say he lived life with gusto leaving behind enough stories to fill a lifetime in death.

Spoiler alert, my story doesn’t end with the word “Rosebud,” just a simple —30— will do.