Staying is Always Preferable To Leaving

Most of us will lose a loved one at some point in our lives. For some, it happens early, while for others, it occurs later. Not surprisingly, the number of unanswered questions after a loved one dies is often inversely related to the ages of the survivors.

My first experience with death occurred at the young age of 10 when a brain aneurysm ended my dad's life. One of the first questions that raced through my mind was, “Why did it happen? Was I in any way responsible for this outcome? Was I not good enough for my dad? Did he not try hard enough to survive, or did I cause my dad so much stress that his death was a direct result of my bad behavior?”

Such thoughts permeated my thinking for the first couple of days after my dad passed away. In fact, during the first couple of days, I was in constant deep thought even when preparing to fall asleep each night. Not surprisingly, my dreams involved different strangers interrogating me about how I behaved before my dad’s death. I felt the questions were an attempt to hold me accountable for my dad’s death.

Then one night, I was relieved to receive a break from these interrogations. Instead of strangers interrogating me, a special guest entered my dream. Hopefully, I could finally obtain answers to all my questions. It was my dad! He told me he was happy to see me before going to work.

“Dad, what kind of job do you have now?” I asked. He said, “I operate a printing press machine for a newspaper.” That seemed odd to me since he had worked in restaurants as a waiter during my childhood years.

“Why did you change professions,” I asked. He then responded, “After a person dies, they get an opportunity to change careers to something they find more exciting.”

My dad loved reading newspapers, so the thought of him working on the production side of a newspaper company made sense. My next question was, “Why not work as a reporter for the newspaper instead of running the printing press machines.” Dad said, “Even in this new life, they have to put you in a profession that best matches your intellectual background. Although I love to read newspapers, I never completed a formal education so working as a reporter was not an option.”

My next question was, “Why did you leave me at such a young age? After all, every 10-year-old needs a dad to raise them. Why didn't you wait until I was 18 or 21 to leave?” At this point, his eyes watered up and he told me that he pleaded with the powers that be, asking for more time to raise me until I was older. However, he said, “they told me that my time on earth as it is for everyone, was predetermined and not subject to negotiation. That is why you will often observe young babies die within days or weeks after birth. It is not their choice either. The person leaving has no say in determining when the transition to the next world begins.”

At this time, he looked a bit impatient and told me he had to go because he was not allowed to be late to work. I looked at him and said, “No worries, this conversation has been great, and I look forward to having more talks with you every night for the rest of my life.”

He bowed his head slightly and said, “Son I wish things were that simple, but they are a bit more complicated. We get only a few opportunities to communicate with your world during the transition, but as soon as the process is completed, my contact with you will cease."

He also reminded me that this might be our last in-depth conversation since he had heard that his full transition was almost complete.

I said, “No that isn’t fair, I have so many questions to ask today and more that will come up within the next couple of days, months, and years. In fact, why can’t I just come and join you?”

My dad winced and said, “I don’t think that is a good idea for you because I see a wonderful future ahead for you. Besides, if you choose this path, it will be irreversible. Remember, I did not choose my path, it was chosen for me.”

He went on to say that even though he accepted his predicament if it was up to him, he would have chosen to stay longer.

His final words as he was walking away while focusing on me like a laser beam were, “Staying is always preferable to leaving.”

Although I heard those words whispered to me 55 years ago, they will always be the loudest words I have ever heard in my life.

It is no wonder why I am such a staunch advocate of suicide prevention.

Staying is always preferable to leaving!