I was at an uncle’s grave this evening, along with my dad and a cousin of mine (said uncle was his father). I’ll be the first to admit that while I knew him, I was never really that close to him (it’s the same story with most of my relatives on my father’s side), but a death in the family is a death in the family nonetheless, and it was a really thought-provoking visit.

Perhaps this isn’t the right thing for me to say, but while I wasn’t actually sad that he’s no longer with us (not because I don’t care, but because he didn’t play a large part in my life at all — at least not the parts that I remember), it was an emotional visit. Particularly due to the looks on both my father and my cousin’s faces — looks that said a thousand words. Perhaps even more.

Walking through the graveyard, I saw many different types of graves. Some were well-kept and devoid of any weeds or grass growing on the soil, while others were overgrown and generally uncared-for. It got me thinking that, perhaps, the best thing to have is people that will remember you after you pass on.

The trip reminded me of how short life actually is. Sometimes we get to live it through, while sometimes we get pulled off the stage in the middle of our act. My late uncle died of a heart attack just as life was beginning to look up for him. I guess, sometimes, situations like that are what make people bitter about death. Obviously the dead don’t care — but the living do.

I don’t know if there’s an after-life, if what religion tells us is true. Perhaps it is, perhaps it isn’t. I honestly don’t know either way — it’s either I believe in it or not.

And right now, I don’t know.

Categories: life and times, thoughts
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