I know what loss and grief and sorrow feel like but I can’t imagine what it’s like to realize you’re dying. Is it a long, drawn out realization, or does it take your entire body and world over in one split second? Do you feel afraid for the unknown, or is it more like relief? Does your life play out in parts, your memories connected by flashing neurons strung together like pieces of clothing hanging on a clothesline? Do you think of love? Do you hope for the warm hands that touched you last? Do you pray, even if you don’t believe in God? Do you say whatever words you have left in that last breath out loud? And if you only have a second of life to spare, how long does that second really seem to last?
What is it like to know you’ve reached the end and might never again get another beginning?
Questions without answers and answers that don’t make sense once asked.
If life is such an enigma, can you imagine death?