Death ends a chapter or begins another, it's never just a text-heavy page. For how much time people spend thinking about dying, it might as well be an errand to run or a TiVo episode to watch. Probably yet another reason why, when it happens, expected or not, it's always shocking.
Its presence dominates the psyche like a master ninja, striking hard and retreating to invisibility. The aftermath is a tornado of loose thoughts, unchained emotions, and shifting perspectives. Expressing grief (or not) is as disorienting.
Memories start to playback on a constant reel. Alone or together, so many details come to the surface. Taking stock of all those quirks, th important and the nonsense on equal ground, is cathartic and seems honorable, sending off a soul with respect and recognition of all that happened here.
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