"the last Night She lived"

The last Night that She lived

It was a Common Night

Except the Dying -- this to Us

Made Nature different

We noticed smallest things --

Things overlooked before

By this great light upon our Minds

Italicized -- as 'twere.

As We went out and in

Between Her final Room

And Rooms where Those to be alive

Tomorrow were, a Blame

That Others could exist

While She must finish quite

A Jealousy for Her arose

So nearly infinite --

We waited while She passed --

It was a narrow time --

Too jostled were Our Souls to speak

At length the notice came.

She mentioned, and forgot --

Then lightly as a Reed

Bent to the Water, struggled scarce --

Consented, and was dead --

And We -- We placed the Hair --

And drew the Head erect --

And then an awful leisure was

Belief to regulate -- 

Dickinson also discusses death in this poem. But in this poem, she discusses a death that is being expected. When we are told we someone we love is going to die, we don’t know what to say or do. We begin to pay attention to those little things we didn’t notice before. We begin to share memories and stories to ease our pain.

 

Then, when death eventually happens, there’s nothing you can do about it. All you can do is move on and remember what you had with that person who is no longer with you. When someone dies, we start to blame ourselves for their death. We start to say “This is entirely my fault” or “I could’ve done this and they'd still be here.” Usually, there really is nothing you can do about someone dying. Death is obviously something you can’t control, as much as we wish we could.

I’ve never been told to prepare for someone to die. I’ve only lost them unexpectedly. I don’t know which way is easier; to have time to tell them good bye and have to suffer with them through their death or to lose them suddenly and not be able to have a formal closure with that person.