Privilege.
That word denotes a sense of slavery as well as gratefulness. Maybe when we are young 3 - 4 years old there was a collective wonder at the presentations of life. As I've aged, older myself, that view fades and surges at times.
The phrase though turns round about privilege. Those that find joy and meaning in their moments are too far away to see the other side. Even more so that time spent in the dark will dim their light and they don't want that. So the phrases are short meant to season a soup in the hopes it's tastier for the dark ones. Same can be said on the other side where no glimmer lends a glow. Reminds me of a movie, forget the title. Had Robin Williams in it. Short of it is, he died after his wife and went to save her from her own doom as a suicide. The god there told him he could try but would likely lose himself as well. If nothing else it showed the steps one from a life perspective would attempt with a death perspective. Seemed spot on to me. One can't really understand another but by walking the same path and risking the same outcome as the person already in the dark. As in the movie, time was limited to help that person. Much the same as it does in the here and now.
Privilege…there is the privilege to live life, to not live life, to accept death and rail against it. That privilege is innate, more a universal right not something bestowed. A fateful outcome to an unknown desire. What I know of this world is all around me and life as well as death are not a privilege. One is granted before words even order themselves, and the other is a defined event that is not ruled over but attempted to be.
A response to that phrase may be, you have my privilege to make the world as I see fit, to graciously have that thought in your head, to gratefully accept my view of a persons autonomy to decide, to thank yourself that you have lived to be old, and if you want further discussion you are welcome to walk in the dark and experience the same fervent belief in death that you have in life. In keeping with your own steadfastness though don't visit unless you can really afford the time, and as no deep shadows in the light no torches in the dark.
The last years of life are worse than the start for most. Death doulas don't exist because the old are still in wonder, its fear, a lessening of fear to enable a calmer passing because sheer terror of death at the doorstep rattles the living as well as those leaving.
The onset of age related disease and general body failures is much the same as dumping scalding oil all over oneself while sitting in the middle of the Sahara. Funny how the latter doesn't happen.
Would be my view if a life lived brings one to old age and the dust is in the wind they can have the privilege of a noble grip on the terrors that await them and the small box that life becomes, they can drop their thanks at my feet for pissing on a view of life as they did mine of death.
In kindness as this was a bit dripping, would let them know at times a more careful and thoughtful delivery coupled with an open mind may light a small candle where we can see each other but not today, perhaps another time when there is less dust in the wind.
