The Passage of Life and Death

In the last couple of months under the global pandemic, I’ve experienced the death of a loved one and near-death of other loved ones. I’ve had episodes of depression, where I felt hopeless, lost, and unenthusiastic about everything. Equally, though, I’ve experienced life: my friend gave birth to her baby girl, and just a week ago, my mother gave birth to my baby brother, Andres Alejandro Amaro. In my moments of darkness, I’ve had family, friends and my faith to serve as pillars of light. All of these things, and all of the experiences I’ve had during the last couple of months, have helped me to arrive at something I’ve never really thought before: life and death are more connected than we think they are. All life ends with death, and in my faith, all death is the beginning of new, eternal life.

My mother poses the day before she is scheduled to give birth by C-Section. She knows that it will be difficult and that she’ll be unable to do what she loves for a few weeks — cooking and cleaning— but she smiles anyway.

This photo was taken nearly 20 years ago, at a birthday party we threw for my sister. All those years ago, my godmother held me in her arms and laughed and giggled with me. I cherish the memories we shared over the years and am thankful to have had her in my life.

Andres Alejandro Amaro, the 9th Amaro. This baby brother has been an immense blessing for me and a reminder that life continues. He is a rather peaceful child; he only cries when he is hungry, and enjoys being cuddled with and embraced. I look forward to watching him grow.

I can say the following with certainty: my godmother, who passed away on May 29, 2020, has moved on to a glorious, eternal life. But such a thing is not easy to say or believe. When she passed, I still experienced immense sadness. I had lost someone who was monumental in raising me and who I held so dear. It was hard to know and accept that she would no longer be with me. In fact, during my grieving, I had a conversation with my dad about her, seeking to find some peace of mind.

My father poses during sunset at a parking lot. I love this man. I’ve watched him develop so much over the years from a person with a childlike temper and aggressive tendencies to a loving, kind one.

We were sitting at a table during our lunch break — I had gone to his job that day to help out — and I asked him simply how he felt. He was very honest with me, telling me that he could not sleep the night before because something was keeping him awake. Not knowing exactly what to do, he prayed a rosary. And during his prayer, he asked God to take my godmother into His arms for eternal rest. I watched my father’s slowly aging, slightly wrinkled face as he described his sleepless night and was almost brought to tears. As he spoke, I pictured the man he had been before meeting the Church and finding a community that would love him with all his flaws — an aggressive drunk, who was violent, angry and selfish. And then I thought about the man he is now— patient, kind, loving and hard-working. I smiled at him, and he smiled back. His words eased the pain I felt within. And in that peace, I continued to eat my lunch and so did he — a homemade meal prepared by my mom.

We finally started visiting my grandparents after months of not making any physical contact with them due to Covid-19. Here, Matthew and Rebecca were being sprinkled with cold water by my brother, Daniel. I didn’t get wet, but I enjoyed watching them have fun. 

Sitting at my desk today, I’m not sure if my father knows how necessary that conversation with him was for me, nor how much his faith inspires my own. It helps me walk with a particular hope and outlook on life that I wouldn’t trade for anything else.

In the midst of the difficult moments I’ve experienced during this time, I have found my pillars of light to lift me from my darkness and give me hope. There really is no time for life to stop or for me to live in endless melancholy. In the next couple of months I will watch my baby brother grow several inches. In a couple of weeks, I will begin my second year of college, majoring in Journalism and minoring in pre-medicine. Pandemic or not, life goes on.

I’ve found some time to make trips to the beach. Recently, I’ve enjoyed sitting in my beach chair, closing my eyes and listening to some of Mariah Carey’s soothing songs, like “Fourth of July” or “Outside.”