Chapter 17: Life.

what constitutes a truly morbid thought? what pushes a person across that thin line between a contemplating philosopher to a depressed maniac? how do you know where you fall?

i've always thought seemingly morbid thoughts as far as i can remember. the idea of death and what it must feel like to die has always intrigued me. no, not in a "ooh, i want to try!" kind of way. more of a fascination of sorts. with the idea, with the after-life (is there one? isn't there one?), the idea of a soul.

what attracted me most to death was the dignity in it. a lot of people say that the expression on a dead face is that of peace and serenity. honestly, i've always seen a look of pretentious dignity, nearing haughtiness, never quite there. a kind of pride that you see in a living person who walks into a room and owns it. you are probably just sitting there, minding your own business as you sip your drink, when you are compelled by an urge to look up at the door. and there she is, that person who can command the attention of the entire room, relishing in the delight of all eyes upon her and her alone. as you look around, you realize that others were just as transfixed as you were. you revere and envy her for this unseen power over others. this is what i see when i see death.

i've always thought that a person's true worth to the world can only be determined by his/her funeral. that is the one time when every person you have affected significantly or slightly will be together in the same room at the same time. i think this is what saddens me most about funerals. though the person is lost, i am a firm believer in that each has his own time to go and we can't do anything about that. the reason i cry at funerals is because that person will never fully realize his/her influence in the world, how much he touched a particular person at any particular moment. he'll never realize that this loss has brought forth tears from eyes he never expected, and nothing from eyes he expected to be red and itchy by now.

i'm not going to throw out the cliches of "live each day like it's your last" or "if you love someone, tell them so everyday." let's be honest, in the middle of all those cell phone calls and emails, dodging cars as you cross the street and dodging your boss at work, buying that non-fat light latte with extra whip cream, these are the things we forget to say. all i'm saying is that when have lost someone who has touched you in any way - and i mean any way - shed a few tears. if this is not your style, remember them as you take an extra minute out of your day to close your eyes and just breathe, make a small offering in her name when you give a quarter to a bum, or just raise your morning cup of coffee to him in salute. i may not have any lofty ideas about life or death, but i do know that no act of kindness or compassion will go unnoticed.