When I was young, I always thought that everything is endless. People are endless. Life itself is endless. Not surprising seeing as the concept of death and separation mustn’t have occurred to me. When I was a child. When I was a child, I thought no one will ever leave. And even if they left, it was only briefly. They will come back. And they did come back. But as we grow older, the concept of the end came and catching up to our consciousness. With beloved ones suddenly left without any preamble or reason. With people that we care about suddenly gone from our lives. And with our closest friends and families leaving us in the permanent sense which is death that comes without warning.
And when we lost something, someone, we cope. I coped. But then stubbornly, my consciousness seem to reject the fact that there will come a day when people I love will leave me and go with the cold hard clutches of the death. Unconsciously, I just don’t want to think about it. I refuse to. But life finds another way to remind me that nothing is endless. With each death and grieve that I witnessed throughout my still-short-life, I am constantly reminded that everything will be over in due time. And either it’s something so sudden it will leave you feeling shocked to the bone or something expected for quite a long time, it will still leave a scratch of reminder and a deep worry lines. It will make me re-think things. It will shatter the conviction that everything is endless that I so stubbornly have. And it will make me realize that in fact, everything has a time limitation and we need to make the best out of everything because we don’t know when it will be over.