warning: this post touches on the sensitive topic of death so if it makes you in any way uncomfortable, please leave immediately. read with caution.
“Death is not the opposite of life, but a part of it. ” – Haruki Murakami
I don’t know about you but death always touches me the wrong way. I don’t quite like death, I don’t like the thought of people I love so dearly disappearing from my life because of it. I don’t like the fact that one day it’ll be my turn, that I have to leave the people I’ve grown to love and the many things in life that matter so much to me. it just seems so difficult to leave everything behind. what’s harder is knowing that people around will feel a loss because you’re gone now.
I vaguely remember when my grandfather passed on. I was a mere child then and I was unsure of what was happening. I just knew that he was dead, that he wasn’t on earth anymore and he was at a better place. I couldn’t quite comprehend what that meant but it was all I knew and i figured I didn’t like death. How dare it snatch away my grandfather from my mother who loves him so dearly !
The funeral was sombre and everyone was mourning. I was startled to see my mother cry, because she would usually put on a strong front. I pursed my lips and I sat still, barely fidgeting, which was very unlike how my curious self would behave. Even as a child, I knew something wasn’t right and I was on my ‘ bestest ‘ behavior that night. It was only until I became much older before I understood the concept of death.
Simply, it means to stop living. It means to no longer exist in this world, that you no longer exist in this world.
Where is he now ?
Why can’t I hear his voice admonishing me to stop picking out beansprout from the dishes my grandmother painstakingly made with love. Why can’t I feel his warmth anymore, the one I’d feel as he carries me in his arms as I bury my face in his over-washed white wifebeater, fearing his bespectacled look, only willing to take a peek after he removes it. I can still faintly hear his chuckle as he obliges to my silly requests. i can still feel his presence amongst us, warmth surging in my heart knowing well that his unconditonal love for his children and all his loved ones will never die out. Even as he lays there, cold and liveless, there is much life in him.
He is dead but not gone.
He continues to live on in our memories and in our hearts and minds. I smile at the thought of this, maybe death isn’t all that bad afterall.