Death is an Impostor

On a deeper level, Scott’s brief communication offered a message of healing in another important way. During the years we made our way through life together, we had faced everything as a team. All of life’s joys were made sweeter in the sharing, and the inevitable slings and arrows softened by the shield of our love. But yet there I had been on the morning of Scott’s passing, left unable to share this most momentous of experiences with him. I had seen him all the way through, bearing witness to the crowning “experience of a lifetime,” but now felt keenly the depths of my isolation. More than ever before I longed to be with him in this experience, to talk it through with him, to somehow help soften its impact in the sharing. But death had slammed the door shut on me, and hard, leaving me unable to do so.