People will not understand. They will cry. They will puzzle. They will rant and they will rave…but, they will not understand.
They will ask questions.
“If he cannot survive life than what hope is there for the rest of us?!?!”
That is ok.
Death is not to be understood. It is a foreign invader so inexplicable as to remain forever monstrous and forever a puzzle…it is almost as monstrous as life itself.
In a moment it strikes like a bomb and the shrapnel flies indiscriminately into the lives of people near and far scarring them forever.
Mourn and while you mourn consider that which was given while it could be given…consider it a gift from a fellow sojourner like water shared between comrades in the desert. A ration given to one is a ration closer to death for another but the journey is sweeter for the gift.
There is no sense in death inasmuch as there is no sense in a door or a window…