Death of a sibling
I know some of you have experienced
this but it was a first for me.
My sister, Carol Sue Hansford Campbell
1949 – 2012 died two weeks ago at her home in Denver. Her death was unexpected;
certainly by me. I had not spoken with her for some time and was not
aware she was unwell. I received a call from my remaining sister Joyce
telling me she had talked with Carol’s husband, Doug and he told her that Carol
had experienced a tough time getting rid of a chest infection, which led to a
heart attack that killed her. I heard and understood Joyce’s words but it
seemed somehow unreal; and that feeling remains. I had somewhat the same
feeling when I heard from Mike Holmstrom’s wife that he had passed away.
Even though I knew he had cancer and was not going to live very much longer, it
still did not seem real. I guess death is just always emotionally
unexpected, even when we are somewhat intellectually prepared.
Parents and old people are expected to
die along with those of us who have been so unlucky as to contract a serious
illness, but to have someone younger than we to be suddenly removed from life
seems shocking and somehow wrong and offensive. It penetrates the veil of
denial that we build around the fact of our own mortality. Death is the
ultimate reality. I, for one, just do not like its realization so
forcefully and unexpectedly thrust upon me.
I was not particularly close to Carol
but we were not estranged and I knew generally what she was doing and how her
life was progressing. How little I knew of her current day-to-day life
was made clear by her friends talking about her at her funeral. They knew
her current reality much better than I but none of them could remember that
little blonde haired girl with glasses and pigtails who shared the giddy
excitement of Christmas morning with me so many years ago when we were children
together. I will miss her.
Most of my life I have struggled with
the concept of faith. I would like to believe but have generally not been
able to truly embrace religion. I believe there must be some power
greater than ourselves at work in the universe but it has never been made
personal for me. My Grandfather was a Methodist Minister and a true believer
but that conviction did not extend to my parents, neither of whom wanted any
kind of funeral service. My personal situation has always somewhat
colored my infrequent interactions with formal, institutionalized religion.
Carol’s husband remained deeply in love
with her throughout their marriage and in some ways was quite dependent upon
her. Both Joyce and I were worried about how hard Doug might take Carol’s
death. As I was traveling to Denver for the funeral, I suspected that he
would want the comfort that a formal ceremony and traditional burial might
provide. So I was not surprised to find Joyce and I at a small chapel in
the grounds of the cemetery located close to Carol and Doug’s home and not far
from our childhood home or the High School that we all three attended.
Carol unlike the rest of the family had never moved from the mile-high
city. She potentially was the most committed Bronco fan who ever lived.
The funeral service itself was
conducted by some rent-a-parson who I do not think had ever met Doug or
Carol. There was an open casket. That I did not suspect. We
had to pass by to give our last respects. For me, that body was not the
animated, joyful person that was my sister. I do not know what it was but
I fear I will have a very hard time getting the image out of my mind.
Words about everlasting life and
recorded hymns of Amazing Grace will not bring back Carol for me or lessen my
grief. I would rather celebrate her life than puzzle over the mysteries
of what happens next. I try to think that if religion brings peace and
solace to believers than more power to it. But I found this whole thing
unsettling and slightly unpleasant.
I think I will join my parents in not
having any ceremony.
Mike Holmstrom had his ashes scattered
in the Pacific Ocean and my parent’s are in the Sierra Nevada Mountains.
All of our physical bodies are comprised of elements that were originally
created in the cataclysmic deaths of stars millions and billions of years ago
and far far away. They will ultimately return to their source. I
guess I do not care where my ashes end up but I would like it to be someplace
warm, I really do hate to be cold.
Carol faced challenges in her life and
things did not always come easily for her but upon reflection, I think she
enjoyed living her life more than most people I have known and she never
knowingly hurt a single other human being. I do not think you can have a
much better epitaph than that.
In reflecting on my life, I think I
have been the recipient of many more favors than I have bestowed. I have
been lucky in my choice of friends and associates. My friends may be
weary of my continuing dependence on their generosity of spirit. But,
nevertheless, I will make one additional request. I can assure you, that
at the time, it will be the last.
Many of you have never met my family
but you are all important to me and I would like them to know you a bit.
Rather than have a funeral or formal memorial service I would prefer to have a
virtual memorial. I am going to ask my son Jason to send a notice to this
distribution list of my death when it happens and I ask all of you to take a
moment and write some brief note to him recalling our best moments. I can
think of nothing better for me at the time I cease to be than to be remembered
even briefly by my friends and family.
Hope you are all well.
Bob
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