Untitled
Why are we afraid of the dark? Why do snakes and spiders frighten us? If we were to trace all of our fears down to their very roots, we would inevitably come face to face with the Spectre of Death. To be no longer numbered amongst the living haunts us like no other demon. The knowledge that one day we will all cease to be has turned some of us into philosophers and others into priests. Mostly, though, death has made cowards of us all. We pop vitamins, eat fibre, run three times a week: all the while looking warily over our shoulders to be sure that death's long shadow isn't gaining on us.
Our vigilances and all the advances in medical science make not an iota of difference. The statistics on death are still a hundred percent. Just as they were ten thousand years ago. Whoever is borned, dies. As a matter of fact, they are the two only requirements of life. Once we accept our demise as a certainty and a part of the cosmic deal, death becomes a friend that sits on our shoulders to remind us that we're only here for a short visit. Shouldn't we be smelling the flowers along the way?
We believe it is neither morbid or fatalistic to contemplate our own death. Once we learn how to die, we will learn how to live. The best place to die, given a choice, most of us would rather spend our final moments in the comfort of our homes and certainly not in our least favourite place: the hospital. While we want to die at home, the fact is that only a quarter will end up doing so. Not everyone gets to "go home" from home.
Quick exits. Most of us would hide under the dark humour when asked how we would like to go. "I want to live a hundred and ten and get shot in the back by a jealous husband." or "I want my last words to be: A TRUCK!" While sudden death may appealing, in reality they leave a great many things undone. And they are often the hardest deaths for family to accept. In contrast to an abrupt, easy death, dying of an progressive illness offer time and opportunities to put our house in order. Which includes of healing stained or severed relationships. When two people end well, the story of their lives are fondly remembered.
So long. I forgive you. Forgive me. Thank You. I Love You and Goodbye.......
to be continued...
Our vigilances and all the advances in medical science make not an iota of difference. The statistics on death are still a hundred percent. Just as they were ten thousand years ago. Whoever is borned, dies. As a matter of fact, they are the two only requirements of life. Once we accept our demise as a certainty and a part of the cosmic deal, death becomes a friend that sits on our shoulders to remind us that we're only here for a short visit. Shouldn't we be smelling the flowers along the way?
We believe it is neither morbid or fatalistic to contemplate our own death. Once we learn how to die, we will learn how to live. The best place to die, given a choice, most of us would rather spend our final moments in the comfort of our homes and certainly not in our least favourite place: the hospital. While we want to die at home, the fact is that only a quarter will end up doing so. Not everyone gets to "go home" from home.
Quick exits. Most of us would hide under the dark humour when asked how we would like to go. "I want to live a hundred and ten and get shot in the back by a jealous husband." or "I want my last words to be: A TRUCK!" While sudden death may appealing, in reality they leave a great many things undone. And they are often the hardest deaths for family to accept. In contrast to an abrupt, easy death, dying of an progressive illness offer time and opportunities to put our house in order. Which includes of healing stained or severed relationships. When two people end well, the story of their lives are fondly remembered.
So long. I forgive you. Forgive me. Thank You. I Love You and Goodbye.......
to be continued...
posted by kOkY at
2:36 AM
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