Drifting in the Space of Ramblings

Ramblings About Death

Everything dies.

Even a stone dies, it reaches its end. One day all of this will disappear and turn to dust. It may take thousands and thousands of years, but everything has its end.

Everything.

When my grandfather died, I thought my life had lost its meaning. He was the only person who listened to me, who knew me, who understood me. I lost a friend above all. I did not accept death, I cursed against God and the destiny of things. After him, my life was a succession of funerals. Friends, loves, brothers, relatives, and the list only grew longer.

I begin to think that I was destined to accept death; this was the great lesson I had to learn in life. Not to accept my own death in particular, but death as a consequence of life. It is not as frightening as I imagined when my grandfather died.

Death is seen as something very heavy and complicated by Western culture. I tried to open my mind after swimming against the tide for so long and refusing to face a meaning in so many funerals. Death is actually something beautiful... it is the end of a cycle. It is the final leap into the unknown.

Perhaps I learned my lesson in this world too early, perhaps that is why I am dying so young now. Perhaps there is nothing more to learn now... Nothing that I must learn, at least.

Death no longer scares me.

The death of loved ones no longer scares me for some time now.

And it's not because I have become an apathetic person who doesn't care about anything, quite the opposite. I have just learned to see beauty where few people have the courage to look with the necessary depth.

Death is not darkness. Death is light.

Death is not despair. Death is tranquility.

Death is not sadness. Death is happiness.

It surprises me greatly that most people who call themselves Christians are so afraid of death. I think deep down people only call themselves Christians because they do not fully understand their own religion. I say Christian because I am Christian, but things must be similar in almost all religions out there.

But the question I have not yet asked myself is: Do I want to die?

I can accept death and deal with it very well, but is it something I want?

I don't want to die.

For a long time, maybe I wanted to, but today, in particular, at this moment in my life... No. I do not want to die.

I want to be able to wake up tomorrow and see that everything was just a nightmare. Look at the sun in the sky and the clouds moving in the wind. Hear the birds singing. In a cliché scene from a Disney movie. I want to be able to do all this and still have a breakfast worthy of a margarine commercial.

I am going to die today. There is nothing I can do.

"I'm sorry, Rachel," I say something out loud for the last time.