Your mother buried me a long time ago and believed me when I say that I cried and still cry for this death every day.

When the people we love are gone, the memories are all we can hold on to.

If love is the only thing we can take with us when we die, what's left for the people who stay?

For some reason, it never occurred to me that the jaws of death could touch someone next to me. Never once did I think the people whom I cared about could simply cease to exist. Or what would be the consequences of it.

I read somewhere there are two deaths, the second overcoming the first. The first happens when the body dies and the other is the last time someone says your name.