We all die. A thought I had the other day while having a rough go at life, (“Why me? Why do I hurt? why? woe as me…” kind of day) I tried to think about how long it takes us figure out how to live. There are words written about birth, living, maturing, becoming frail, and finally death.
We seem to know a lot about life, and so little about death — which is funny in a way, because we’ve all been dead longer than we’ve been alive.