Grief.

Yes it is going to be another one of thos e happy entries, but I guess this is catharsis is action, so meh.

I was 8 months old when I first lost a reletive. 6 years old when I recognised its appearance again then it appeared again when I was 7, 8, 9 . At 6 my best friends mother died of melanoma (skin cancer), she had never sunbathed, didn't use sunbeds, but was, alas, fair.By the time I was 9 I was having mildly suicidal thoughts about finding out what this "death" thing was all about. Over the next few years I lost a few more people grieved for a few days and moved on.

I was 22 when my last grandparent died. and 23 when my mother's heart failed resulting in her death infront of me. That was the truest measure of how frail and fragile life is. And it is now how I measure life, as a split second. In other words, you only have a split second of life to live, you can not guarentee tomorrow. A by product of my mothers passing is that I constantly and consistently think about, what was my mothers last thoughs, did she know she was going to die and what did it feel like.

It wasn't the end of the death, my father was next, followed by my uncle and my aunt 2 - 3 years later.Again the same thoughts crowded my head (pretty thought it may be) I know I suffer survivors guilt, I suffer the idiocy of was there something I could hve done to prevent it, stop it save them SOMETHING. I know the logical answer is no, but I still ask it, sometimes I even daydream about a time machine and goign back to warn them. I don't think it would have worked somehow. Some things I guess are just fated.