Thursday, May 8, 2008

I hate that I'm only reminded to live when people die.

He was my age, my height, he lived a similar suburban life, and he died of an improbable heart condition. It might as well have been me. The funeral was heartbreaking. Tragedy of a teenage life lost. I saw my dad cry.

I realized I had to live my life to its fullest.

I hated that cliche conclusion. I hated transforming someone's death into a moral message for my personal education. I'm not the central character. There is no purpose to the end of their life -it did not happen to remind me of the importance of my own. That's a preposterous perspective that diminishes their existence. And yet, death continues to do this.

When other's lose their loved ones -a plane crashes on the other side of the world -I am only able to relate by imagining the hurt if I lost my loved ones. The death of a stranger becomes a storytelling device, a grim reminder of mortality. A human life is transformed into a post-it note that says "Carpe Diem".

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