The reality of death hit me at the age of 9, when my stepfather passed away. He was only married to my mother for a few months, but I have no memory of my actual parents being together, so those months was the only time I’ve ever had a proper family. The thought of being there one day and not the next, is very scary.
But, you’ll grow Grandsun. And that you’ll never be prepared for the time that someone you know dies.
As for your own death. Don’t be afraid. Personally, I’ve come to the conclusion that once I die, that is the end. I have nothing to fear afterwards. So when it comes at old age, know that you’ve lived a good life, and embrace it.
I hope that helps.
Thank you. I think the moment I started fearing death and thinking about it was when my grandfather died in March. It was the day after my birthday and a week before we planned to go to Queensland for the Commonwealth Games. The moment my dad told me he had died I asked if the doctors could bring him back. But the reality is that he had died. Sr first I didn't believe him so I rang up my mum and she said yes he did die. I then bursted out crying and cured for the next hour. The thing that made me guilty is that night we were opening presents for my birthday so I my mum left the hospital to do the presents then went back with my brother. I said I would go and see him tomorrow but unfortunately there was no tomorrow for him. He had been in the hospital for a few months but he wasn't truly bad that we expected him to die but that day he deteriorated very quickly and ultimately died if liver failure. It went so quick and I'm angry that I didn't see him that day. I usually never kissed him, I gave him a handshake and he called me the cornel. I kissed his forehead before I left the room. That is when it hit me and I've been thinking about death ever since.