|
I am not afraid of death.
The idea of no longer existing in this world has never been something that worried me. Among the millions of tiny, insignificant things that I choose to dwell on, death has never been one.
In a way, I have already accepted that one day – hopefully later rather than sooner – I will die. And I am OK with this. Everyone has to go through it. I am not unique in that way.
But death still scares me in one way: the reactions of those mourning a loved one. Those who gather at a wake, or a funeral, or a memorial service for someone they loved. Their faces, their sorrow, their grieving, their sadness. For some, misery loves company; for others, privacy is best. Or perhaps isolation? Isn’t it the same?
Tightness in your gut. Eyes averted downward, hoping to not lock with those around you. Feelings that are not so unlike those of shame, guilt, regret, embarrassment. You can physically feel the pain; but it is a selfish pain. It is pain of our loss. “Today, we lost a great person.”
The fear of letting go. How silly. This is how we show our love? It was not a life that was ours to “let go”. We didn’t own it. We never did.
We shared in it. We remember it. The memories are ours forever; we actually own those. We should be thankful to our loved one. How wonderfully selfless, to provide memories of happiness to those which he loved, even when he is gone. It is a gift and not debt. We have lost nothing, yet have gained so much!
Why is this often forgotten?
The palette used to paint this scene is one of dark colors; uninviting and dreary. However the star of the show is almost always smiling and relaxed. The irony is unmistakable: I’m alive and crying, while he’s smiling and dead.
Perhaps the dead know more than the living.
Perhaps we mourn because we feel left out.
I am not afraid of death; it is the living that scare me more.
|
Login
Register
FAQ
Search
Sorry to hear!!
