Death is a strange thing. You hear of it happening, everyday, everywhere. The media seems to have sadistic pleasure in bring it to your notice all the time -"56 dead in blasts, 45 drowned in floods, Child dies in motor accident", so on and so forth. You read the headlines, maybe feel shocked and sorry for a while, and conveniently move on to the next headline.You never realise the finality of death till it strikes close to home.
Death is a strange morphogen. It impacts your memories, changes them and somehow, you generally end up feeling guilty. You remember all the fights you had with that person, and, though at that time you had a valid reason for taking the stand you did, now you just find it childish and immature, and you feel guilty. You remember the things that the person had asked you to do for them and you had refused or put off, and never got around to doing. You remember all the good things about that person, and wonder why you never appreciated them enough. You think of all the good times you had with that person and wonder why you never had more, in spite of enjoying them so much. And you feel guilty. And, you realise how final Death is. That no matter how much you wish, you really can't go back in time, give them that one extra hug, have that one special day, tell them sorry for everything, and put things right. You just have to live with your guilt, with your demons that creep upon you and catch you unawares in your weak moments.
It is like what Greg House says - "Nearly dying doesn't change anything. Dying -changes everything".
Death is a strange morphogen. It impacts your memories, changes them and somehow, you generally end up feeling guilty. You remember all the fights you had with that person, and, though at that time you had a valid reason for taking the stand you did, now you just find it childish and immature, and you feel guilty. You remember the things that the person had asked you to do for them and you had refused or put off, and never got around to doing. You remember all the good things about that person, and wonder why you never appreciated them enough. You think of all the good times you had with that person and wonder why you never had more, in spite of enjoying them so much. And you feel guilty. And, you realise how final Death is. That no matter how much you wish, you really can't go back in time, give them that one extra hug, have that one special day, tell them sorry for everything, and put things right. You just have to live with your guilt, with your demons that creep upon you and catch you unawares in your weak moments.
It is like what Greg House says - "Nearly dying doesn't change anything. Dying -changes everything".
