The Spark of Life

Death is a subject that fascinates some people and is purposefully ignored by others, but I suppose most things are like that.

It is the last act, the final scene, the end of the line so to speak in this journey through life everyone talks about.

I don't know how anyone can really understand it. There are no magic words, no temper tantrums, no amount of pleading or begging that can change it. There is no amount of money that can reverse it. The loss of the sense of power one has in life is completely taken away when there is an attempt to try and control death. We can produce it, we can put it off, but we can't stop it.

One of my earliest memories of pondering something was before I was four years old. I spent a great deal of time contemplating my own death. At the time, my fears were about leaving my mommy and daddy and hoping I felt okay being with my grandpa, who I had no memory of, but who I was assured loved me and would take care of me, until they came.

Since then many other ideas have crossed my mind. I wonder how death can be so feared by people who believe in heaven. I wonder why people feel the need to proclaim divine retribution will be as senseless as man's. I wonder what would be wrong with truly going back into the universe to be resurrected in the grass and flowers and trees that spring forth and die so quickly and quietly all around me. I wonder many things.

The only thing I know is that the missing that fills in the hole left by death is real.