by Giovanni Cucci
The moment of the sudden death of a loved one becomes at the same time the recognition of a painful truth: how much the other had become part of us can unfortunately mostly be recognized too late, by the internal tear caused by his disappearance. Every relationship reveals un aspect, of oneself and of the other, different and unrepeatable. This uniqueness is dramatically remembered by his passing, as Lewis astutely notes: “Now that Charles is dead, I will no longer see Ronald's reactions to a typical “Charles” joke. It is not at all true that now that Charles is gone, Ronald is more mine, as he is everything "for me"; the truth, if anything, is that now I have less even than Ronald...".
Often we appreciate the value of the loved one only when it has been taken from us, discovering in it things that were previously inaccessible. For this reason the death of the loved one also becomes one's own death, as Pirandello famously notes Letter to the mother. In reality it is not she, but he who is dead because he will no longer be able to count on her affection, which gave him warmth and comfort. The mother, however, continues to live in the mind and heart of the writer.
At the same time, the death of the other can also reveal an aspect of the identity of the one who remains, an aspect hitherto unknown to himself, and known only by virtue of that tragic event. These are some of the many paradoxical aspects of the comparison between death and life: a part of us dies when others die, but a part of them also survives in us, and reminds us of our structural being-in-communion-with-them.
The inseparable bond of death and life
Attempts to remove death, whether speculative, psychological or practical, are mostly linked to the fact that it comes to deny the sense which characterizes life, and which is essential to continue living. Man is the only living being who sa of having to die; animals perish, only man dies. Man is the only being who acutely feels this strident contrast, his tension towards life and at the same time the inexorable force of death. This is the peculiar characteristic of the anguish seen above: it arises from a request for fullness, from a protest in the face of the "theft" of it carried out by death. Yet the anguish, the question, the protest could not arise if that fullness, that meaning, were not somehow known. The negative shows itself as a missed fullness, and at the same time as its request, motivated by an experience, by a knowledge that is somehow given, even if in the postponement and absence expressed by an empty place: «The same consciousness of extreme finitude, the same anguished feeling of death could not arise if not against the background of a tension that arises from the infinite and which, immediately, must translate precisely into the scandal of irreversible silence, into the horror or protest that fears nothingness" (V. Melchior).
It is this tension that makes us search for a possible answer, animated by a known light. The loss of a friend, a parent, a loved one, does not erase the value and intensity of what was built together. However, this value is always revealed in the sign, in the detail, leaving the nostalgia of a fullness never fully given.
The affirmation of man in terms of being-for-death, made famous by Heidegger, cannot therefore be associated with pure nothingness. In this case, in fact, even the questioning itself would vanish. In fact, it couldn't even be asked. Our thinking and acting is always within being: the notion of nothingness presupposes this. It is Heidegger himself who recognizes this: "If, with a simplistic explanation, we pass off nothingness as what is, we too hastily give up thinking."
Death therefore not only can be said starting from life: it also speaks to life, which is why it is so painful. In particular, it reminds us that existence, both ours and that of those we have loved, cannot be possessed. Accepting this precariousness does not mean surrendering to non-sense, but accepting other knowledge, of which man is not the measure. The search for meaning thus remains continually crossed by paradox: only by looking death in the face, only by not possessing, only by letting go can we experience life and the presence of the absent to us, in another form.
This is the very meaning of the work of mourning.