I long for a life filled with sad deaths. Funerals where old people’s rich lives are celebrated, rather than gatherings of shocked mourners. Longing for another couple months with gramps, rather than the incomprehensible reality of an entire lifetime ended early.
Of course my brother’s death is sad as well. But the sadness will never stand alone devoid of the greater bracing shock and wrongness of his death. In many ways I feel I will never be able to be simply sad about Alex’s death. Sadness comes with the change of seasons, with inevitable givings way of life into death, with necessary losses that lead to different rebirths. Sadness is not wrongness.
I long for a life filled with sad deaths. It is too appalling to face more wrong deaths.