Death is inevitable and even though it is sure to knock on the door of everyone, it still somehow manages to deliver an astounding shock every single time; even in cases where it has been highly anticipated due to illness. It feels more unfair and unbearable when it snatches life from those who can barely walk and those who have been led to their death through violence and carnage.
From road accidents to fires to murders, we have not been in short supply of stomach churning news of recent. Sometimes it feels as if we have grown immune given its continuity. Growing up, each of my parents had their own way of dealing with death. My dad would rarely go to funerals, and often said, ‘the dead was the dead’ meaning that we must accept and move on. My mom would be more swept up in cultural traditions like leaving all your clothes outside after returning home from a funeral.