So, let’s talk about the one thing that certainly going to happen in our life: DEATH. It’s like this unavoidable destination at the end of our journey through life, right? Life and death, they’re like this tag team duo that keeps us all guessing.
But for some reason, death tends to be this sort of taboo topic. I mean, we’re all a bit spooked by it, aren’t we? Maybe it’s because of how religion paints this picture of death and what comes after. Or maybe it’s just because death is this big ol’ mystery box we can’t peek into. We’ve got these wild theories and beliefs about the afterlife, mostly thanks to what religion tells us. You know, the whole judgment day, heaven-and-hell deal?
Anyway, like most folks, I’ve had my moments struggling with the idea of death. It’s been quite the journey, let me tell you. From being downright terrified of it, to feeling like maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, to just being like, “Eh, whenever it happens, it happens.” So, I figured I’d lay it all out in a series of articles. Think of it as my personal saga of going from running scared of death to busting a move with it.
What could a child know of the darkness of God’s plan? Or how flesh is so frail it is hardly more than a dream.
― Cormac McCarthy, Suttree
Fear — of The Unknown
I remember a moment vividly from when I was just ten years old — it was on my birthday, and instead of celebrating, I found myself in the midst of my very first existential crisis. My brain hadn’t quite caught up with the complexities of existence to get the answer. But there I was, shedding tears because time seemed to be slipping through my fingers like sand. Suddenly, I was a ten years old girl, and I couldn’t fathom how quickly the years would keep slipping away. I found myself envisioning the milestones society told me to expect: college, work, marriage, kids, and then eventually, death. It was the trajectory we were all supposed to follow — that’s what they said, aight?
The idea of death and the fear of being forgotten gripped me tight. I couldn’t shake the question: Why did God create me and give me life if death is just around the corner?
For your information I was growing up in a religious family. That day I turned to my grandmother with my concerns. I poured my heart out to her, and she chuckled before offering a simple yet profound answer, steeped in our faith: “We live to praise Allah, to believe and have faith.” Basically, she was saying, our purpose is to serve God.
But that just led to more questions spinning in my head — Why did God create us to worship Him? For what purpose? I mean, if God is all-powerful, surely He doesn’t need us to boost His ego, right? Are we merely His playthings, created by Him for His own amusement?
My grandma didn’t have an answer for that one. She told me never to question God in such a way. She said all I needed to do was focus on my studies, believe, and pray. After that I praise to god everyday, being the good girl in the koran and hadist. I bury the question and doubt, and choose to believe. Then, a few years later, she passed away. Losing her was a devastating blow — she was the person I loved most in this world.
I was mad at God that time. I had seen her suffering in the hospital the night before her death. She’s getting better when I arrived — they always said I was her favorite grandkid, and somehow my presence seemed to lift her up. Just a few hours before my grandma passed away, I stood by her bedside and promised, “I’m going to school now, but I’ll be back as soon as classes are done. I’ll take care of you, just like you did for me when I was sick! It’s only a few hours.” I kissed her hand and forehead, and she mustered a smile, telling me to study hard. Little did I know, as I walked away, that she wouldn’t be there after school — not even half a day later.
When I got the news, tears streamed down my face like a waterfall. I can still feel the intense hatred I had towards God in that moment. How could this happen? I had just been there with her, seeing her smile, showing signs of improvement, and then suddenly, He decides her time in this world is up? It was a stark realization for me — death lurks around every corner, striking when we least expect it. Maybe you’re at the peak of happiness, basking in a joyful moment, and then bam — death crashes the party. It’s a harsh truth: we truly have no idea how long our time on this world will last.
Her death brought me back to that lingering question. When I heard the news, tears flowed freely, but when I saw her dead body, an odd calm washed over me. As I stood there, surrounded by weeping relatives and friends, I couldn’t help but overhear their conversations. They reminisced about her kindness, her strength, her patience — qualities I hadn’t fully understand her until then.
I watched as we laid her to rest, but strangely, I couldn’t shed a tear. The next day, our family gathered for prayers, and the atmosphere had shifted. There were no more tears — instead, there were smiles and laughter. It pained me to see how quickly people seemed to move on, as if her existence had been reduced to a single day of mourning. That night, alone in my room, the weight of it all hit me, and I wept until dawn.
It was a harsh lesson to learn at such a young age — that one day, we’ll all be forgotten. People may mourn for a moment, but soon enough, life goes on, and memories fade. It’s a tragic reality, but one I’ve come to accept as a part of life’s journey.
There’s one thing about her — she loves her life and everyone in it. That could be a reason why she’s scared of losing her life and everyone in it.
Now, I’m seeing things from a different angle — the moment we grasp how fleeting life truly is, it serves as a stark reminder of our mortality. Nothing can alter this reality. That little girl, scared stiff of death, fears one thing above all else: the dread of being forgotten.
She despises the notion of not knowing when or where death will come knocking, or which loved one she’ll have to say goodbye to next.
As I’ve grown older, I’ve noticed that girl placing blame squarely on God. She’s been taught to attribute everything — the good and the bad — to a higher power. She thanks God for the moments of happiness in her life, yet finds herself cursing Him for her first taste of grief. She struggles to come to terms with her own helplessness and the uncertainty that shrouds life and all its twists and turns.
