SADDER THAN DEATH ARE THE SORROW AND GRIEF WHICH SURROUND IT.
THE LAST TIME
THE LAST LOOK
FOR THE DEAD
THEIR PAIN CEASES TO EXIST.
The dead may leave others in pain, but others celebrate the fact that the dead have been ridden of their pain and suffering. And yet, they fear death.
Life goes on. Not the same as before, but it goes on. Sometimes, while one is doing something one suddenly goes silent and remembers the dead- a fond memory or an angry memory or a sad memory or an embarrassing memory. At that point, time stops, remains still, but in the next, it resumes and one has to move on. One can't stop, because one has one's own life to live. Or just survive. Some just survive, they stop living. Or maybe they never lived.
The possibilities are endless, but the ultimate truth is that everything does end someday. It is inevitable and yet people cannot accept it. They tend to hang on to the tiniest threads that manage to exist after death. That is the power of attachment.
But this attachment breaks one, weakens one. It makes one cry out for the dead, makes one miss them and pine after them. But they won't ever come back. The dead never return. They only remain in spirit, but their soul has embarked, their body decomposed or burnt or eaten or cut up and thrown away.
Do memories make the situation better or worse? Is it better to have cried or to not have cried? Is it better to accept the universal truth or live in constant denial?