My sister-in-law’s 102-year-old mother died in the month of May. Boxes of her mother’s belongings were moved to my brother and sister-in-law’s, and they ended up right in the middle of their living room—literally stacked up about a foot from the ceiling! When my brother died suddenly the following January, my sister-in-law ducked her head and ruefully said, “Maybe he died to get away from the boxes.” That’s the kind of crazy way we think.
In my husband’s case, he was given a choice to live or die (read Scott’s Choice to learn about that). These things went through my brain: “Didn’t he want to be with me?” or “Was I too loud and did I get mad too easily?” or “Did he die so we could be rich from his life insurance?” (He always wanted to be a millionaire).
In the book Maybe a Fox by Kathi Appelt 11-year-old Jules frets over why she didn’t yell or scream loud enough for her sister Sylvie, or why she hadn’t held onto Sylvie’s hand tight enough. She tearfully told her father, “It’s my fault, Dad. I should have made her stay.” Her dad shook his head knowing that what happened was not Jules’ fault.
So, the answer is, no my brother didn’t die because boxes were piled up in his living room. And no, my husband didn’t die to make us rich. And no, Sylvie didn’t die because of Jules’ neglect. But those are the crazy things we think when someone dies. Especially children think this crazy way—that THEY are responsible.
Thinking this is normal, and that’s okay—for a minute. My brother, a doctor who was trained to handle emergencies, wouldn’t have died to get away from boxes. My husband, a man full of integrity, wouldn’t have died to cash in on life insurance money. And Sylvie wouldn’t have stopped running just to please Jules. We need to get past the crazy way we think when someone dies and realize that they died the same way they lived.