The Mystery of Death

For the past few months the people around me have been confronting the loss of those they love. Death has always been a mystery to me. My first memory of death was my younger brother's drowning so it has always been extremely difficult for me to come to terms with the finality of it. People who were just here laughing and playing with me can be swept away in the blink of an eye never to be seen again. My response is almost always a feeling that begins with denial and quickly morphs into frustration, finally ending in confusion and leaving me hollow. I do not understand it. Sometimes death is as simple as never waking up from a night's sleep and sometimes it drags on for years in senility. It makes no sense. We come into the world so predictably and live the day to our day of our lives without incident. Most of us grow up, fall in love, get married, have kids and live the happily ever after. But for some it is different. Along the journey something changes. An accident. An illness. Then suddenly that life is on a totally different path and his/her loved ones try desperately to follow behind. But as our arms flail out to held them here on earth there is nothing that can be done to slow time. We don't get the last hug or kiss, the last shared smile or a parting word. They are simply gone. It is over. We hold on to our memories and carry the spirit of our loved ones with us through the rest of our lives. We speak their names to keep the memory of who they once were alive not only for ourselves but so they will never be forgotten. They were here. They changed who we became. They made a difference.