We die very much.
At a rate of 120,000 humans a day, we die.
That is one 911 per hour. One Tsunami a day. Half a Holocaust per month.
In that scheme of things, it is surprising we make such a fuss of our own death.
We could also just close the eyes and think: this happens every day. Today is just my day. I'm in the same boat as 120,000 others right now. Please don't let me make a fool of myself. Let me be an example of dignity.
My All Time Favourite Death is the one of Diana Reitman.
That one was so remarkable that I still remember her name - just one of the extras in the movie Schindler's List. A screen presence of not 2 minutes. Just one of the many people shot in a labour camp.
She attracts too much attention of the officers, they bring her forward and pull their gun - and Diana Reitman says: "It will take more than that".
She is shot, drops to the ground, and is gone. A death as in a Russian movie. No fuss, no drama.
I hope that when the time comes, I will be able to be such a wise person.
Let's see how my last page will be. In the mean time I just want to live the whole story.
Sitting on branch 45 of life's tree, and looking down at all those 45 summers and winters that brought me up here, I pretend to be allowed to think to presume to imagine that I can tell a bit about life.
"That thing that happens to you while you are dreaming of something else".
Greetings from my hilltop village.