46 - The Peace That Comes With Knowing the End

Today I found out 

that the customer who lost his sister to cancer is also dying

He used to work in a factory, 

grinding metal sheets. 

Years of inhaling metal particles have destroyed his lungs. 

The doctor told him, if lucky, he has a couple of years left.

But he didn’t seem sad. 

He was cheerful. 

Happier than usual. 

Lighter.

I guess knowing there’s an end to the suffering is a kind of relief. 

A closure to the burdens he’s carried.

The scary thing is,

But I understand that.

If I knew when it would end, 

it would be a relief. 

Not because I want it to end, 

but because the waiting is heavier than the ending.

In a moment of morbid curiosity, 

I almost asked him how it feels to know.

But of course, I couldn’t. 

I have to wait for my turn.

Knowing the end is not something many get to experience. 

And I’ve seen it before, in those who take their own lives.

There are two ways they live their last day.

One is the obvious,

withdrawn, 

sad, 

quietly giving up. 

Like my friend.

The other is the one that unsettles me most

the ones who become unnaturally happy.

Almost looks healed.

They find peace in knowing the end. 

They see tranquility ahead. 

And in that burst of euphoria, 

they let go.

It’s terrifying. And beautiful. 

How peaceful the end can look. 

And somewhere deep inside, 

I envy that clarity.