A friend of my mother’s husband died and I was there when he coded. Death means funerals. I hate funerals. I won’t say that everybody hates them because some people might love them but I hate them. I have been watching people I love and care about go into the ground since I was a little girl so I guess I’m kind of over death. I wish people would stop dying. Since people won’t stop dying I have resolved to stop loving. There is only a small number of people in my life who I love to the point of being majorly depressed if they die and so I have told myself not to let anybody else in because people just do that–they die.
I always say death and disease are the only things in this world that are not prejudice. If you have the parts you could get the disease no matter your color and gender. If you were born into this world you will die out of it. This is the way of things.
Death is a finality avoidable by none, but life is too short to spend it in hiding. Basically, avoiding love is not really possible without dying yourself on the inside; love while you’re still alive to do it. Spend time with the people you love while they are still breathing–it’s much better than remembering how much you missed sharing with them while you’re standing over their grave.