Picture in a frame, ashes in a bottle, boundless energy confined in the bottle, forcing me to deal with reality, forcing me to deal with being grown up. I hear you and I know that you would want me to be strong, but right now, I am being sucked down, surrounded and suffocated by these raging emotional waters, craving to cleanse my soul, trying to emerge on a firm footing one more time, to keep on fighting and flourishing just as you taught me.
Your encouraging whispers in my whirlpool of despair, holding me and heaving me to shores of sanity, to live again and to love again.
What happens when we die? How do people react to death when it enters their lives and families, their history? How can we move forward when somebody we loved dies? What does death represent? These are just some of the questions everybody asks themselves sooner or later, at least once in their life.
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For example, early health reformers wanted graveyards removed from city centres, and this is seen to reflect a “removal” of death from the realm of the living.
[…]In the West we have moved from a healthy relationship to death to a pathological one.
[…]Those who discern in modern culture a denial of death often also claim that the different attitude of earlier cultures was also a more healthy one. Be it through the burying of the dead in the centre of the community rather than at the periphery, or the keeping of the dead alive imaginatively, these earlier cultures are said to have more fully integrated death into life and to have been the better adjusted for it. (pp.121-122)
It is true, in the past people were used to see and to live closer to death; in every house, almost every room, someone had died. Nowadays our homes hardly witness death, everything in our cities goes on almost as if nobody dies