Dancing With The Dead

Ever thought whether doing too much of something you love causes it to fade away?

I've met a bunch of interesting people. I call them my silent teachers. Most of them are pretty elderly, grown to their full riped age. The winkles on their skin all so oddly similar, yet they all came from various walks of lives, different backgrounds. Language is a big problem. You see, they don't really talk. Shy, calm, yet cold, they lie there, all prepared for the lessons. Doesn't matter if you are late though, they don't really mind. Afterall, they are usually locked up in the room, so company is fine.

Our first meeting wasn't the best. I was taken aback, not knowing how i should respond. One of their representatives came to show us the tricks and trades, on how to optimise our learning. They were there to help, with open arms, or sometimes just one arm.

As alike many things in life which requires time to nuture, our relationship grew. I felt more comfortable mingling amongst them. With every visit, they impart invaluable knowledge which strengthens my understanding. At times, i wish to ask why they were so sacrificial. I wanted to say a word of thanks, but that was silly. Afterall, they were dead.

NOT an accurate depiction of the teaching table

The path i have chosen makes Death, a familiar face. Right from the beginning we learn from those who nobly given their flesh to transcede into knowledge. And through the years, the emotional scale gets heightened. From the cold steel tables, to the fading warmth of the hospital bed, even the strongest hearts will ache.

However, we are humans. We adapt. We find little pieces that amuse us, crack a joke to relief the tension, harden our hearts, or just cry. I signed up for this because I love humanity, but will the process rob my humanity instead.

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"When they pick up the coffin, you must look away"
Version Grandma, "Or your spirit will get sucked in and trapped"
Version Mother, "Cause it is scary"
Version Me, "Signs, Symptom, physical examination..."

Don't let me fall the stereotype. Don't be labelled "heartless".
I want to fear death, as much as i want to embrace it.
I want to waltz amongst my silent teachers, as much as i want to cry with their loved ones
For in death, there is life.