Death… That’s right, death. The end of the life of a person. Even though I’ve clearly never died I feel like I’ve been around death a lot. Especially when I was younger. I associate funeral homes with death, obviously and I’ve been to a lot of them. Well, rather, I’ve been to one funeral home a lot and then to a few others. I know the way death smells and I know what it looks like. I know the sound of it and the way that I feel when stepping through it’s front door. I have a weird relationship with death. I’m always expecting it but yet it always bewilders me when it finally shows up. Sometimes it’s foreseeable. Sometimes it’s a shock but it’s always uncontrollable. No way to avoid it. I’ve attended funeral homes almost 10 times before the age of 16 which I feel is a lot. I’m not claiming to hold the highest attendance for funerals and I’m certainly not bragging or searching for pity but I think that’s more than the average person. Just because I lost a lot of people when I was young doesn’t make it any easier. Does it ever get easier? The only thing that helps are the memories you had with those people. Pulling those memories apart and grabbing those truly amazing moments and never letting them go. Keeping random phrases or advice from that person with you as you move along through your life. Sharing their wisdom with people that you come across. It’s almost as if their spirit left their physical body, broke itself up into hundreds or thousands of pieces and then those pieces found their way to the people that they loved the most. Possibly through a spirit transporter that kinda sorta looks like a microwave but more spherical and comes in way cooler colors… Ok, I’m joking. Funeral homes all smell the same though. It’s like the smell of flowers with a hint of formaldehyde or something. As soon as you smell it you get a little weak and you feel like you could vomit but you’re unsure. It’s always cold and usually quiet except for those people in the back of the room laughing about what a crazy sonofabitch the dead person was back in the day and all of those fond memories they have. It’s weird to say, but I think I’m pretty comfortable with death. I don’t look forward to it but I’m also not scared of it. My only fear is dying in an expensive way and leaving my family in debt or something. Maybe I’m just worried about it now because I’m one of the millions of uninsured Americans but I hope I kick the bucket quickly and it’s not a long, drawn out, expensive treatment after expensive treatment kinda thing. So weird to be blogging about this LOL!.. I feel like I know how to cope with it and I’m always open to talking about it. People may think death is too dark to blog about or consider me a psycho for even bringing it up in such a nonchalant way but that’s the way it goes, I suppose.