Death

This week I want to talk about death. Death is one of the few certainties in our lives, yet we rarely talk about it. We avoid it as if that could postpone it. Nevertheless, everyone encounters it at some point, whether in thoughts or in reality. Recently, I had a remarkable conversation about death with a man I met on the street.

He was an elderly gentleman with a calm gaze and a slow walk. He seemed in no hurry, and when we started talking, I felt that his words carried weight. We talked about life, how the world changes, and eventually, we touched on the topic of death. He told me that he believed everyone has their time in this world predetermined. Maybe not a specific date and hour, but a certain framework within which their existence fits.

"Death is unpredictable," he said, fixing his wise eyes on me. "You never know when it will come. But maybe that's a good thing. If we knew, we would live differently. And the question is, would it be better?"

We were silent for a moment. His words echoed in my mind. He was right. Maybe death is precisely what gives life meaning. If we were here forever, we would stop appreciating the time we have.

Before we parted ways, he added, "Young people fear death, but we older ones accept it as part of life. It will come when the time is right. Until then, we must live."

This conversation made me reflect. Older people have a wealth of experience and wisdom that we often overlook. We should talk to them more often, listen to them, and learn from them. Perhaps then we will better understand even the things we fear.