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Discussion in 'Personal' started by southwalian, Feb 1, 2008.

  1. I attended a funeral today - all of a sudden everyone looked so old.

    Life really is too short isn't it.
  2. I attended a funeral today - all of a sudden everyone looked so old.

    Life really is too short isn't it.
  3. kellyegg

    kellyegg New commenter

    too short for what? If you are 40 and are going to die at 43 you are geriatric, if you are going to live until 97 then you are in the spring of youth, to take a quote from Andy Dufrese in the Shawshank Redemption better get busy living or get busy dying-your choice!
  4. funerals are always hard...have got to go to one next week and am dreading it. Life is short and it always makes me feel guilty that we do not appreciate it enough. Chin up x
  5. Actually, I would hate to live forever. My dear granny died at 84 when her body was starting to go, so I think that's a good age.

    I hate it when people go before their 'time' though. It seems so unfair. A man I'd known for a long time died in a motorbike accident last year at 40. He left a aprtner and a 10 year old son. So much unfinished business... it seems so unfair.
  6. iwb


    Life is v short indeed and thank god we don't understand this when we are young.
  7. iwb....how very very true
  8. it was weird - people I'd last seen only 3 years ago now looked so old - my brother who I'd seen but a few months ago looked so old too.

    I guess I must too......but strangely the mirror only ever shows me! Weird!
  9. When asked how it felt to be 70 Maurice Chevalier said fine if you consider the alternative!!
    As you get older you begin to be aware of your own mortality.
    Don't dwell on it,just try and enjoy the ride.
  10. post 2 kellyegg, I couldn't put it any better than that. ty made me feel good.
  11. A 5 year old girl in my class has been crying at bedtimes and saying to mum,
    'Why did you have a baby?' Mum thought she meant the younger sibling, but no...in the next breath she said,
    'If I'd never been born, then I wouldn't die. I don't want to die!'
    Oh help...mum says they do have religion in their house, but it has not solved the problem...
    Anyone out there got any ideas for this troubled, deep thinking child???
  12. kibosh

    kibosh Star commenter

    No, I'm 43 and still think like this. It's a long phase, called Life.
  13. thebigonion

    thebigonion New commenter

    When my dad died, Onion Jr started thinking similarly. We ended up telling him that 'nobody knows what happens after you die, but we know that before then, you get a chance to live - so try to make the most of that first, rather than thinking about the moment it ends.'
    That, and the idea that nobody really dies as long as you carry them inyour heart and your thoughts have kind of worked to stop him from launching into morbid obsessiveness.
  14. Eureka!

    Eureka! Lead commenter

    I cottoned onto death when Winston kicked the bucket. What a **** sandwich, I thought. My mother's way of comforting me was to say how young I still was, but that didn't seem to do the trick somehow. I'm not sure what the answer to a child should be, but that's definitely not it....

  15. lurk_much

    lurk_much Occasional commenter

    What has the Bash Street Cat got to do with it?
  16. I don't think about mortality as much as I used to. When I was a child, I was totally convinced the life-force was an unbroken line which continued after a person died - it just went into another human being who was conceived at the time of death. Is there a name for that? A sort of Reincarnation? Dunno. I don't really think that anymore, but that's what I believed, uninfluenced, as a child. It made me not worry about dying.
  17. Anonymous

    Anonymous New commenter

    I've now been to several funerals of adults who were younger than me when they died, mostly suddenly. The very, very close shave I had last year brought it home to me in the most powerful (and scary) way that life is, indeed, short and that the cliches are true...I have a whole different attitude now! I don't focus on my mortality, even though I'm lucky to be here, I focus on living!
    Since we don't know, unless we are ill and have a poor prognosis, how long we'll live - I had no idea that I might not see 54 - we'd best make the best of what we've got!
  18. Being an atheist, I am quite content (as if, by definition, I had a choice) to accept that, to quote the title of Agatha Christie's novel set in Ancient Egypt, 'Death comes as an End'. If the death of the physical body brings dissolution of an more ordered system to a less ordered one, then the personality contained within the the former cannot continue to exist.
    A few years ago, my late wife died of cancer: her end was harrowing for her, but at least her decline was relatively fast, only a couple of months from diagnosis to death. I say the following dispassionately, as a statement of fact, not to elicit sympathy. I am now partially disabled (although a recent ATOS interview found me fit for general employment), and have no family who have any need for me, except, perhaps, an emotional one. Looking at the way conditions of life are deteriorating around me (a winge going back beyond Plato, I know), and given that I have morphine patches stuck on me to supress the pain of spinal injury, if someone were to pass me the Cup of Oblivion, I would drink deeply from it.
  19. I am not a religious person and as such have no emotional crutch to aid my passing. At the moment (age 51) I have a tremendous fear of death. I only hope that, as the years go on, I will begin to look on death as an old friend and when the time comes welcome it with open arms. Much as you seem to imply, Albert.
  20. From Birdsong.
    " He sat down on a chair and held his face in his hands.
    He saw a picture in his mind of a terrible piling up of the dead. It
    came from his contemplation of the church, but it had its own clarity:
    the row on row, the deep rotting earth hollowed out to hold them, while
    the efforts of the living, with all their works and wars and great
    buildings, were no more than the beat of a wing against the weight of
    Strikes a chord with me.

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