Yes, it is sad. A death of a family member or friend is especially sad. So much history. Or so much wished for history. Opportunities and opportunities lost. The living journal. Any oral history is silenced. I guess that is why I write and continue to write.
Yet, It is not the death that haunts me as much as the death of a life before there is the death. The wasted moments. The failure to live fully when the moment was there. Waiting. Waiting for what.
As the shell of what was slowly enters the last walk of life's journey I think about what wasn't. The wait. For what exactly. Not even used up. Just wound down.
A sadness fills the room. Please learn the lesson. Don't wait to live. Don't wait to love. Don't wait to say what has to be said. Don't wait to risk. Don't wait to run. Don't wind down. Get used up. If you fear death and therefore avoid adventure, you will be oh so empty when death arrives anyway. Never lived. Only waited to die. A walking death on a daily basis. Don't wait.  An ageless experiment.