Life is pleasant. Death is peaceful. It’s the transition that’s troublesome.
I mean, they say you die twice. One time when you stop breathing and a second time, a bit later on, when somebody like me who loves you says your name for the last time. To fear death, my friends, is no other than to think oneself wise when one is not, to think one knows what one does not know. No one knows whether death may not be the greatest of all blessings for us, yet people fear it as if they knew that it is the greatest of evils. Of all the ways to lose a person, death is the kindest. The tragedy of life, Anginetti, is not that the beautiful die young, but that they grow old and mean. None of us are getting out of here alive.
Sometimes, the Lord just takes blessed people because they’ve filled their purpose early. Everyone plays their own song. They sing their story to the world and leave behind a melody of memories. Sometimes… their song is cut short and ends too early. But that doesn’t mean their music was any less sweet or that they left any less of an impression. Just as when we come into the world, when we die we are afraid of the unknown. But the fear is something from within us that has nothing to do with reality. Dying is like being born: just a change. Life is the only thing which can never be replaced when lost. Death is not the villain of the piece. It is the next phase of life in unfamiliar clothing. It’s not such a bad thing, to feel powerless sometimes. It teaches us that some situations are inevitable and that we should spend what little time we have on the company of the people like you Netta, that matter most.
Anginetti, your name wont be defined by what is etched on a tombstone. It will be defined by what is etched in the lives and hearts of those you’ve touched. We do not look for reason for logic in the passionate entreaties of those who are sick unto death; we are stung with the recollection of a thousand slighted opportunities of fulfilling the wishes of those who will soon pass away from among us: and do they ask us for the future happiness of our lives, we lay it at their feet, and will it away from us. Sadly enough, the most painful goodbyes are the ones that are left unsaid and never explained.
The loss of a loved one is like the loss of a part of oneself. At first, the pain is so physical that it is hard to ignore. The trauma is so intense that the mind finds it hard to cope with the loss. With time the pain eases they say. Dying has a funny way of making you see people, the living and the dead, a little differently. Maybe that’s just part of the grieving, or maybe the dead stand there and open our eyes a bit wider. For everything in life there is always a beginning and an end. This is the tough part the most difficult thing when you see that it’s coming: The end. Memories are of the ethereal, and not the material world, that is how I know you are forever. Your music echoes in the emptiness of life without you. It reminds us where we came from and where we’re all bound.
There are spiritual guardians at all the transitional places in our mysterious multidimensional Universes. The precious sacred souls of us all are created to beautifully traverse these regions when our bodies are no more upon the Earth. Netta, you have carved your name in my heart and the hearts of many others, not on a tombstone. A legacy was etched into the minds of us all as having known you and the stories we will always continue to share about you. I can feel the daisies growing over me.
She was simple in her intentions; she embraced the challenge of seeing the thing through.
Love You Always, Forever Your Friend, DL