Can you?

Acceptance. As it relates to death, once upon a time, I thought it meant accepting that the person is no longer physically with us. Accepting that it can’t be changed. Intellectually, to me, I figured that was pretty straightforward. I’ve come to learn that acceptance is more complicated than that.

We also have to accept that once we have lost a person to death, we can’t change anything about our past relationship. And, we can’t change anything that we did, or said, the last time we saw them.

We have to accept that if we lose someone who is an integral part of our day, our life will change immediately.

We have to accept that if we had a plan with the person we have lost to death, those exact plans no longer exist.

None of that is straightforward. It’s not a matter of processing the logic. It is riddled with emotion. Acceptance feels hard.

I have also been learning about acceptance through my Mom who is living with dementia. Accepting the incurable, terminal disease. Accepting how our roles have changed. And accepting that her new world means I often need to adapt my own thoughts and behavior.  Here is a recent conversation we had while coloring a picture of a donkey.

Mom: Is this grass?
Me: No it’s donkey fur.
(moments later)
Mom: Is this grass?
Me: No, it’s donkey fur.
(moments later)
Mom: Is this grass?
Me: Yes. Do you want the green crayon?
Mom: Yes.

Acceptance. Mom processes differently now. There is more than one way to look at something. Grass or fur, it didn’t actually matter at all. And there are no rules in coloring anyway, right?

Both grief and dementia require a deep dive into that acceptance pool. And if you are going to float, you may as well get comfortable with impermanence.  The law of impermanence is a concept addressed in a variety of religions and philosophies. It states that everything has a beginning, a middle, and an end. The sound of a bell ringing is a beautiful symbol.

But honestly, I think many of us would like to ignore this law. I mean who wants to look around them, at everything and everyone, and acknowledge and accept that all will someday be gone. Because everything around us is part of our identity. The life we have built. Maybe even what gives meaning to this life.

On this soul ride, we may not grapple with the law of impermanence until or unless it is before us. When we experience that loss that shakes us to our core – a job, a relationship, a death. And then, suddenly we are hit with all of it. Impermanence, Greif, Acceptance.

Just as I have found a way, over time, to call grief my friend, I can also see a path for befriending impermanence. Well, let’s be honest, maybe they are both the kind of friend that on the surface, you can’t imagine why you would ever buddy up to them. They make a bad first impression. But the more you get to know them, you realize their redeeming virtues and so there you are hanging out on a Saturday night.  

Getting comfortable with impermanence is not an easy thing. But what would it feel like to try before it is thrust upon you? Can you see what impermanence has to offer? It promises an end to sadness, anger, and sorrow. It tells us that when we are suffering, it will someday subside. That certainly gives us hope.

And what if we acknowledge the more difficult view of impermanence. That every life, everything around you, including yourself, will not be there forever.

Can you let this serve as a reminder to not waste a moment because they are limited? Can you minimize the toxins that suck the life out of an experience? Can you feel the freedom of letting go of fear, disappointments, and regret by accepting impermanence as a gift? Can you accept that one thing is for certain, there is a beginning, a middle and an end to all of it?