Death

I used to fear death, but don't any longer. It was the experience of watching my stepfather die of cancer that did it. He was only supposed to live three months by the time they diagnosed him, but he lived for a year and a half, and during that time became very much at peace with his fate.

The morning he died my mother and I were sitting with him. In a nutshell he was very relaxed, got very quiet, and then just seemed to let go. It really didn't seem like a bad way to die, and witnessing it made me worry much less about what dying would be like.

On the other hand, my mother died in a car crash. Someone cut her off, and when she swerved to avoid being hit her car spun out on the rain soaked freeway. She lightly hit two other cars in the process, which knocked out her headlights and tail lights, so an oncoming car didn't see that she was stopped with her car sideways in the lane. He smashed into the side of her car and she died instantly.

Unlike my stepfather, my mother felt no pain, but the fear she must have felt when she saw that car approach still gets to me on occasion if I allow myself to think about it. I don't know which is worse or better.

Jam it back in, in the dark.