san

de gozaru
2002-03-04 17:51:01 (UTC)

...like dewdrops under the warm sun...

Strange…
It’s kind of strange when you think of it, isn’t it? That
we all have been children once. We’ve all been new in this
world, and we’ve had our whole life waiting for us. We’ve
had millions and millions of things to learn before getting
to the point where we currently stand. And still there’s
twice, thrice or even more things left for us to learn and
experience before the day comes when we pass out of this
world. And even that is a new experience for us (at least
it is so in *this* life, if you believe in reincarnation.).
An experience that we all will have, eventually. That is
the way of things, I suppose… But still, it is sad when a
loved one departs. Now, I’ve been pondering… Perhaps fear
is also a part of the grief you feel over a loved one
departed…? Fear of that there will be nothing more after
death, and that you will never see that loved one ever
again. You never really know, you know. However strong your
belief may be. Or perhaps the fear lies within the lonesome
act that dying really is. We are born alone and we die
alone, no matter what. But luckily, that doesn’t mean that
we’re lonely. Most people seek solitude every now and then
by their own free will. To think things through or
just “keep in touch” with themselves, maybe. So being alone
isn’t necessarily the same thing as being lonely…

My Grand-Uncle passed away yesterday. I can’t really say
that I knew him very well, but he’s been around as long as
I can remember. I remember that we used to go visit him and
my Grand-Aunt a lot when I was younger. He was such a nice
man. My Grand-Aunt’s nice too. It must feel really strange
and lonely for her now that he’s gone. They were married
for nearly 60 years, but they had known each other since
1938(!). They had grown so closely together that when they
slept, they would actually sound like *one* person
sleeping:
One day, when my Grandmother came to visit them, they were
both having a nap in the livingroom. First, my Grand-Aunt
inhaled while making a long snoring sound. And in the next
second, my Grand-Uncle exhaled while making a loud
whistling sound! It was perfectly co-ordinated, and they
went on like that until they woke up! My grandmother
couldn’t help but laugh, as it was rather comical:)

I can’t even begin to imagine what it must be like to lose
someone so close to you. It must feel like you’ve lost a
part of yourself…

*sigh*
Sleep well, Grand-Uncle Arne.
We all love you.




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