October 27, 2008 1 Comment
When my aunt died of bullous emphysema three weeks ago, I was filled with fear; the fear of death and its coming. My tita passed on to the next life at 48, a very tender age for a woman who lived a normal, unimpeded life. And 48 is young, in fact too young, to face death.
I am 21 years old, starting my life, and 27 years away from my tita’s age. At this point, no 21 year old thinks about passing; instead, we focus on the routinous tasks we undertake every single day. But I think of it seriously, and I fear it seriously.
The primary reason why I fear death is because it is unknown. Nobody knows what lies ahead after we flatline on a hospital bed, or we pass on in the middle of sleep. Death is an unknown state. And what we do not know, we fear.
But most of all, I fear death because I feel that my life has been crappy all along, and I will need time, lots of it, to set things straight and live a meaningful existence. Wastage leads to fear of death.
So from today on, I pledge to live a meaningful life.