This mortal coil

Methinks that in looking at things spiritual, we are too much like oysters observing the sun through the water, and think that thick water the thinnest of air. Methinks my body is but the lees of a better being. In fact, take my body who will , take it I say, it is not me.
H. Melville

Death is an odd thing. Humans, as much as we all know that it is coming, are never ready for it. It is the scene in the slasher film that you know is right around that corner, that you expect, but that you jump at anyway when the killer jumps out of the closet with a knife. Very few people are ready to embrace death. I have heard of a few people that came to terms with their own death, but we are never fully ready for the passing of someone else. It feels unnatural.

I believe that it is because we are spiritual beings at the core of it all. We were built to endure. We were created to love indefinitely. Our primary function, our primary essence, is a hint of eternity. And so it feels unfair when someone dies. Suddenly, we see ourselves pressed into a limit, our ticking time bomb bodies. From the moment we are born minutes and days become our most valued currency, the object of our waste, and a cause for our guilt. We feel cheated. An eternal being pressed into a package that only carries a lifetime guarantee. So with Death we always ask "why?" angrily.

Pacp's departure is painful for those of us left behind. In Spanish they call it "el desgarre", which literally means "the tearing." It is accurate. We have been torn from him. His spirit has moved on to a realm that we don't fully understand, and we have been left with a husk, a broken piece of meat. Depending on your religious background, the dead are closer or farther from the living, but regardless, they are intangibly beyond us.

But on the other hand, it is the awareness of our dichotomy that makes this process easier to bear. I, for one, do not fear death in the least. My spirituality and faith give me the assurance of better things to come once my soul is finally unbridled. I think Whitman said it well when he wrote:

All goes onward and outward... and nothing collapses,
and to die is different from any one supposed, and luckier.

And luckier... yes, in a way I envy my friend. Free from the mortal coils, no longer tied to the mundane, to pain, to the struggle, to finding the balance between his body and his spirit. Most of all I envy that he has removed that sickly, fleshy wall that stands between God and Man. Arcade Fire sings, "my body is a cage that keeps me from dancing with the one I love." I feel that burden keenly, and I know Paco did as well. I am sure that he is dancing now. His spirit is finally free to join in the cosmic groove, to move in sync with his maker. In this I am happy and find solace.

But Faith, like a jackal, feeds among the tombs, and even from these dead doubts, she gathers her most vital hope
H. Melville