Moshkito
Hi,
A bit strange, but I fit into the surrealist area when it comes to these things ... have a drink ... go party!
Celebrate ... the wonderful things that you learned from that person and anything else ... but sitting back and crying is not gonna help. Some folks will be missed, but then you and I don't sit here and say we miss Mozart, Beethoven or Bach ... so end of story!
Yes and no. People are rarely missed for more than a few days except by one or two people and when those one or two people die, they are forgotten, they become what they did. If you aren't Bach or Mozart or John Wayne... you are completely forgotten rather quickly. Most of us don't have any notion of who our great great grand parents were, we may know their name and a story or two but that's about it.. a generation or two farther back and we have to research to even know their name. Life, in this world, is for the living.
Death is always weird to me. People tell me it is natural but to me, it never seems natural, it always seems wrong when someone close to me dies. It seems unnatural, at least to me. Still, I move on I don't forget the dead I knew but life goes on without them, if you know what I mean. One day we are vital and a part of everything and everyone, for better or worse. Then one day we are not and everything and everyone moves on and they don't miss us, except for immediate family or a close friend. I am well aware that I like a great many more people than those who like me but it is what it is.
DUST: Fleetwood Mac (Danny Kirwan)
When the white flame in us is gone
And we that lost the world's delight
Stiffen in darkness.
Left alone
To crumble in our separate night
When your swift hair is quiet in death
And through the lips corruption thrust to still the labor of my breath
When we are dust, when we are dust
When we are dust, when we are dust
When your swift hair is quiet in death
And through the lips corruption thrust to still the labor of my breath
When we are dust, when we are dust
When we are dust, when we are dust
When the white flame in us is gone
And we that lost the world's delight
Stiffen in darkness
Left alone
To crumble in our separate night
When your swift hair is quiet in death
And through the lips corruption thrust to still the labor of my breath
When we are dust, when we are dust
When we are dust, when we are dust