I am scared of death, of an end. What it represents. The separation, even if momentary, is devastating. I have never lost someone close to me but the idea is terrifying. I imagine them gone, imagine speaking of them in the past tense. I would never see or speak to them again, never hear them again. It is painful.Death leaves a gaping hole, one that can never be filled. You know what else does that? Growth.

Growth takes us away from our past, into the present then into the future. We leave our parents, our siblings, loved ones, our children behind. The good and the bad times seen far away. Things we can only remember, things we can never recover.

When I remember I am growing, I cry. My parents are growing too, they will die. Then I will be alone; my mother gone, my father gone, the things I loved, the people I loved. I want to take solace in Heaven, but then there is Hell, and I can not fortell what judgement would look like.

To console myself about the future, I think of the past, the good times. It works, until I remember they are only memories, so I cry again. Then I look to the future, there will be more memories to make. But there is an inevitable end, so again I cry.

This is how I get stuck in this endless loop of the past and future, completely ignoring the present. And when I do remember, I becomed saddened by how small it is, how small it seems.

This is my useless formula, for trying to prepare myself for death. But I do not think anyone can be prepared, no matter how much we try. It will still hit us, the way it was meant to. I suppose all one can do is to ensure that the moments are lived right, so that when they become memories and ultimately it all ends, we will have no regrets. That at least is something. That at least is solace.