Death is something that seems to be beyond us. Despite it being a birthright, we are never able to prepare adequately for the pain and grief with which it entails. The death of someone young seems to silence us indeterminably. After the grief and pain of it all, we learn to pause before we speak their name.
The night before, a friend met with an accident. He's no more with us today. It was shocking and tragic.
It somehow prompted me to start looking back on our poor choices through youth. Our foolish mistakes and social disasters. I thought about our somewhat, er, 'misguided'(?) experiences; all those times when we have lost control of our bikes and cars, and those close shaves on road.
Perhaps we don't discuss the dead in such a convivial context in order to ease the stark reality of it. The reality that we wish so much to avoid is that it could be us. One of us has died and we are forced to readjust our life lens. We would all like to live each day as if it were our last, but we don't because we assume we have to plan for the future. That our future could be diminished with such immediacy is too frightening to bear, so instead we do not discuss our young friend and his death at all; except in the period of immediate mourning. The name is avoided while we quietly reconfigure our own fears of impermanence. Our memories do not fade, but we keep them to ourselves and hold them close, keeping them private.
Life is short, period. People and moments are precious. Savor the time together; remember with love instead of regret and guilt.