A Letter to Death

An invitation.
I just received an invitation to write a letter to Death.
I assume it's a capital "D" 
but I am not sure about the address.
Where, exactly, does Death reside?
​And I wonder if Death will respond?

---

Dear Death,
Where do I begin? In rage, despair, fear or some kind of pleading? No, let me begin again...

I honestly don't know what to say to you, as I hone in on the words, merely noting the range of emotions, questions and negotiations that hover, wanting to infiltrate accusingly. But I am trying to stay neutral, to open my heart at this moment of purposeful communication. So, Death, I guess I will start with a question: What are you, and what is your purpose for being? Okay, I guess that's two questions. My mind seeks clarity... understanding.

Religions, philosophers and perhaps even science have tried to define you, your purpose. In a very practical way it seems to be about impermanence and cycles, but I want to hear your words, your directness of identity and, I assume, value.

I am doing my best to be earnest, even curious, but this letter might convey my own defensiveness.

See, Death, I am recently wounded by you... or an aspect of you. I know we all meet you eventually, so it seems strange - victim-y - to label any transition to you as a wound. At least for those of us who've not yet met you. For those who've lost our loves ones to you. 

Again, I am trying to express and speak my truth with as much honesty and neutrality as possible, but I am human, after all.

Perhaps if I were more like you - a source of some kind, a field that every living thing meets - I would feel less vulnerable?

I'm wanting, in this moment, to proclaim that I don't fear you, but I do notice all the conditions I've attached.

Let me just be clear... I don't need an answer, or definition, or understanding of you, really. I think I just need to express how confused I am right now, how hurt I still feel; the grief. And, though I don't actually blame you, I do feel it was important to write this letter. Just to be hear.

Sincerely,
​Veronica