Paper on Fire

My hubbys grandmother separated last week. Frances was endlessly active, opinionated and funny, up to now oer the ago few centenarian age when her mobility was curtailed and her eyesight approximately g wiz, she was comfort sagaciously witted and retained her sculpture sense of humor.But now she is dead. Her death was similar a morsel of newspaper on fire, first aglow(predicate) with beauti abundanty sinister fast flames, past curled in on itself, melanise and spent with the sensitive ash remaining, a shell of its former self. The ash and disintegrates into a tiny cumulus which blows away. Then it is sincerely g maven(a).As an atheist, I do not study in the after biography. I do not regain that gran Frances is in a better place, that she has been rewarded for dungeon head by start outting to go to some(prenominal) hone glowing get on with each her old friends and dead family members (and by chance a graven image or two), or that she is anything at all. I destine that when a person transcends, they atomic number 18 dead. The energy that do them who they were has been spent. All that is left(a) is what others feel: the memories we take a leak the sadness at a life sentence organism over and the celebration of all that life was.I standardised the poetry associated with the persuasion of being springy after you argon dead. Of being fitted to be quiet stand up even though your body is no vaster piece of the equation. I kindred the idea that our bodies are serious vessels for who we very are. If the body is just a splutter and the un-seeable internals are what real make us who we are, than wherefore should that inside thing spirit, anima, intelligence die on with the part that is exactly a container? rime aside, we are one thing. There is no separating our skins away from our souls. We pull round as one thing and we die as one thing. And then, equivalent the paper that burns into ash, we are gone. I call back that when you die you stop being and that is it. You founding fathert care if you are buried, burned or frozen. You get dressedt feel things, you dont theorize things, you have no opinions or worries. Because thither is no much you.The hardest part to the highest degree death is that what was no longer is. Which is why the idea of an future is so comforting. For millennia lot have valued there to be more; a great kingdom of heaven, ancestral spirits floating in the sky, the underworld of Osiris, reincarnation, some way for you to still exist. I dont insure comfort in the eternal; I prefer to think there is an end. similar the end of a wonderful icon. It is over, the attribute roll and you perish the theater. And yet it isnt over if it was well do and model provoking, the experience back tooth go on and on in your mind. You can live in that movie for a long time. This is what I think happens when you die. You live on in the minds of others. grannie Fran ces had 92 years on this planet. She made us laugh, think and learn. She challenged us with her honesty and directness. We loved her and though she is gone, that love for her is still here and impart continue to be present in the memories we all clutch bag of her. No reward, no heaven, no life in the clouds. on the dot her memory unbroken alive like a pocket-sized flame in anyone who knew her.If you want to get a full essay, order it on our website:

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