Warning: It’s going to be a depressing post. So if you don’t feel like being depressed today, skip this one.
Why does the mere thought of death make us uncomfortable? Why does the mere mention of the word death make us shiver?
My father in law said something profound the other day. “Death is a bargain we get. If we get to live, we owe death.”
With the miracle of childbirth, comes the bargain of death.
It’s a strange friend, that one. Death is a strange friend. He usually doesn’t come invited. We spend our lifetime wishing it wouldn’t come today, please, no don’t let it come today. And if you really, really should come, can you please arrive in my sleep?
Some believe in life after death. That death is a mere door, a gate to another life. And death should be celebrated, because the deceased is being given a chance to be reborn again, in another life.
Some don’t believe in life after death. No one has ever come back from death to tell us the living what happens after death. Not scientifically, at least.
To some, the thought of death is comforting. A long, peaceful sleep.
And to some, the thought of being separated forever from love, from joy, from tears, from sucess, from fail.. from all the things that make life “life”, the thought of being robbed from that is unfathomable.
I thought about life a lot. I realize I never thought about death.
And how discomforting it is.
But maybe someday I’ll be able to find peace in the thought that it is, in fact, a debt we owe. Death is a debt we all get to pay.