On Mortality

I am in the middle of a cemetery.

Sure, it's a park There are wide open spaces covered with grass. There are trees lining the wide streets. The place is well lighted even at night. I have a cozy space with a loft, a fridge and a bathroom. Still, it's a memorial park; a cemetery.

Places like this make me think of my own death. When will it happen? How will I go? Who will be there for me?

Two nights ago, I was at a friend's wake. The priest officiating the mass talked about a fear that comes to all of us. This was about our fear of the unknown. He mentioned that many of us at the end of our lives cling to it because we don't know what happens after we die So we wish to stay in this world that is familiar to us.

The priest that anointed my mother also said something similar He said our mind keeps on fighting even as our body can no longer go on. We want to think that we continue with life but the flesh has already given up

My mother died fighting for life She tried to gulp the air. She tried to respond to our pleas.

Yet there will always be an end to this life

Being At A Wake

For someone bordering on necrophobia, this is really a challenge for me.

I am at my mother's wake in the middle of a memorial park. The worst of it is that I might have to stay here aone tonight.

Good God, I can't even look down into the coffin.

Let me describe the place. The coffin is the first thing you will see when you enter the door. The benches and the comfort room are further into the small room which is about30 square meters I think.

There is a loft where the family could rest. My problem with this is that the loft is above the benches. Looking over th short wall, you see the whole coffin

So I won't look down.