A Humanist and his Son`s Fear of Death

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A Humanist and his Son`s Fear of Death

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1nickhoonaloon
Ago 4, 2014, 3:46 pm

Slightly belatedly, I wondered if others might find this article interesting ;

http://humanistlife.org.uk/2014/07/14/a-humanist-and-his-sons-fear-of-death

Although I`ve never been in the situation described, I found it quite moving, perhaps because I am the father of two young children.

Anyway, I`d be interesed to know what people`s reaxctions.

2Helcura
Ago 4, 2014, 10:11 pm

When I was a child, my father told me that death was the greatest adventure, and that no one knew until they began it what that adventure would be.

I never felt particularly afraid of death as a child, though I had a fear of dying in some particularly nasty and/or painful way.

As an adult, I suppose I agree with my father, death is the last adventure, and for myself, if it leads to reincarnation, some supernatural paradise (or even hell), or nothing at all, I am only afraid in the sense of the adrenaline-based physical fear engendered by a near-miss of an auto accident or similar thing.

When my father embarked on his last adventure, I felt a self-centered sadness for his absence from my life, a deep concern for the dark grief that my mother struggled with, but I did not feel as if he had been erased or destroyed by death. Even when no one remembers him, he will still have lived and been loved.

3Meredy
Ago 5, 2014, 1:32 am

Thank you for an interesting article.

As a child and probably even as a young adult, I truly didn't believe it would ever happen to me. My grandmother died when I was five, but I didn't understand it. And so far as I can remember, no one bothered much about my reaction. The adults were all in a state themselves.

Until I was about thirteen, I did have an inculcated religious view of it, but I'm not sure I ever honestly believed that either.

When my children were young, I tried to take opportunities to speak about death as they came along naturally: a dead bird in the yard, the death of a pet. I didn't tell them any stories about death, no rosy visions, nothing supernatural. But I didn't make it harsh either. It's something that happens to everybody, yes: but it probably won't happen to you or me for a long, long time. And we're very sad when we lose somebody we love, but we remember them, and they'll always be important in our lives. Something like that.

I don't remember my children's ever expressing any special fear. My younger son was actually pretty matter-of-fact about it. When he was three and I asked him if he knew why I was teaching him something (it was probably the "how do we get home from here?" game), he said, "So when you die I can take care of myself." (Gulp.)

Now, though, I think about death every day. And I am afraid of it--of the process, if not the outcome. Having seen a number of slow, lingering, miserable declines, I have a horror of dying by inches. I no longer know how my sons think about it, but I don't think they're expecting me to cushion it for them.

4Taphophile13
Ago 5, 2014, 11:31 am

When my younger son was about eight he went through a period of anxiety about death. He insisted I promise that when he died I would be waiting for him in his bedroom and that I would be a mother jaguar. That seemed to comfort him and I wouldn't mind returning as a big cat — although I certainly don't think that will happen. Five years later I had to take him to the funeral of one of his classmates. I don't know what his feelings are today but my older son shared this with me so I know we are in agreement: You want a physicist to speak at your funeral (http://www.dailykos.com/story/2013/04/28/1205441/-AARON-FREEMAN-EULOGY-FROM-A-PHYSICIST)

Like you, Meredy, I dread the process. Just aging isn't fun but I have seen a couple people who didn't have to suffer much except the inevitable slowing down.

5LolaWalser
Ago 5, 2014, 11:52 am

I thought all kids went through that phase, that it was a developmental thing.

When I was about six I passed through a period of terrible bedtime crises when I realised that my mum would die some day. Every night at bedtime this incredible overwhelming sadness would simply crush me. I don't recall ever weeping like THAT again, and it feels as if the residue of that indescribable sadness lodged in me forever.

I've never felt afraid of my death--of being dead--to this day. I had a few brushes with mortal danger that certainly terrified me and energised the fight for survival at the moment, but just not existing means absolutely nothing, holds neither attraction nor terror.

6Helcura
Ago 5, 2014, 10:49 pm

>4 Taphophile13:
Oh, I quite liked that. Thanks for the link.

7AsYouKnow_Bob
Ago 5, 2014, 11:11 pm

(Hi, nickhoonaloon, welcome back.)

8Taphophile13
Ago 5, 2014, 11:40 pm

>6 Helcura:
You're very welcome. I find those words very comforting.