Joking with death

Tumie Modise | Monday July 27, 2015 15:40

We are after all, just mere mortals passing through the passage called life. Usually when that moment of self introspection comes, which is often in my case, you are usually in your most vulnerable state, in the middle of some drama. Life does that, like they say life sometimes throws lemonades at you, and according to shrinks, apparently all we have to do is catch the lemons, squeeze them then turn them into lemon juice.

I know very few people who actually buy, let alone drink lemon juice. For me, lemon juice belongs in my bathroom cabinet together with face powders and mascaras.

Only last week I was once again feeling down and very vulnerable, so naturally I started thinking about my own life. Only on this occasion, I visualised my own funeral. Mercifully, I did not visualise the actual moment I died or even see the cause of my demise. But I pictured myself out and cold, on the day of my funeral.

I actually took my phone, closed my eyes then took a picture just to see how I would look. Not bad at all I must say, not that the maggots would even care whether I look shabby or impeccable.

I will be the first one to admit that I hate and despise mortuaries, that if I had my way, I would get a Muslim burial the very same day I die. It just doesn’t make sense why we enter this world warm only to be sent back cold as a supermarket salmon. I don’t think I fear death, I only hate mortuaries, I totally despise them.

I recently read a piece, titled ‘Confessions of a funeral director”. In the piece, it turns out that working daily with departed persons doesn’t make it any easier for one to overcome their own mortality. Even though mortuary workers, especially local ones, never have any qualms having lunch as they prepare a body for burial, apparently they are terrified of dying too.

I once saw one eating fresh chips with her face mask perched firmly on her head, with her latex gloves on a nearby table, without even a care in the world. 

Because death doesn’t appoint, I am reminded of the tragedy that befell some families early last week, after some miners died after a mine collapsed. It is unthinkable to imagine how the tragedy unfolded, even how the victims felt as it happened. It is such incidents that often force us to think of death,  our own, even of the ones close to us.

According to one Philosopher, a person’s death is not seen as the end because the soul is regarded as immortal. In the mediaeval period, he opines, the soul was regarded as the ‘form’ of the body and the two were seen in natural unity.

This unity, we are told, is broken up at the moment of death when the body perishes, whereas the soul continues to exist in one form or another. I imagine they even mean as ghosts.

Speaking of ghosts, there is a widely held belief that existence continues in some other form after death. This belief is generally connected with religious faith or personal ‘psychic’ experiences. Some individuals are able to get rid of the terror of facing death through this belief. This belief is only based on faith. By the same token, existence, transcendence and being are also based on faith, philosophical faith but faith nonetheless. Some of the concepts are not describable, demonstrable or, even comprehensible yet they still talk of death.

Back to my own death, I saw many sad faces at my funeral, I saw a couple of wails even from my sworn enemies, and my few exes. If I recall very well, even my neighbour, the one that is currently not on talking terms with me fainted at some point.

That is what thinking of death does to you; you want to imagine that your passing would be one great loss, not only to your family but as Batswana like saying at funerals, a loss to the country too! Never mind whether you died in a fiery exchange of fire with the police, they will still say that and say it with a straight face!

So I as snap back to reality, I realise I am almost half way through confronting my own fears concerning my own mortality.

But even then, I will still unleash the dogs when I go to sleep, drive with my seat belt on. Flying out of a motor vehicle is spectacular but not how I want to go.So how do I want to go? I don’t know, I just don’t want to be there when it happens