Losses

 Somehow it has worked out lately that all my posts treat death in a way. Today will be no different. It will be very similar. Today I would like to write about loss....

Each of us at some point in our lives has felt the taste of loss. Not the ordinary kind. The kind that is the worst. One after which nothing is ever again as it was before. 

At a certain point, time stops its doors to make us realise how insignificant we are in the face of mortality.

Death made a mockery of being 28 years ago. It brazenly laughed in the faces of the mortal and mocked those who planned. 

“Mors Est Quies Viatoris, Finis Est Omnis Laboris” proclaims an ancient Latin proverb. “Death is rest for the traveler and the end of all work.” This is translated into English. 

***********************************************************************************Death leaves us with a loss. Sometimes an irreparable one. One after which there is nothing left. A huge void is left. Nothingness. Absence. Absence is the opposite of presence. That presence which, being guaranteed, was never such.

***********************************************************************************While loneliness feeds the sense of lack, the derision of the senselessness of loss is all the more crushing the more senseless the loss is.

***********************************************************************************

For T.

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