I’m sitting on the couch listening to number one hits of Michael Jackson (CD raided from my uncle and his partner’s collection) at a reasonably loud volume and totally dancing while sitting on my arse.

My extended family has had two losses in the last month. My third cousin, Troy, was killed in a car accident a month ago and then his grandmother, my great aunt, died on Monday night from heart failure. Troy was 22, she 84. His a complete shock, her’s not so much because of long-term health issues. Last time I saw him was 9 years ago, her two weeks ago. I couldn’t attend his funeral (my mum represented our family), I am attending hers tomorrow.

I am surrounded by death at the moment, not just in the very real personal form of losing family, people I’ve known all my life, but also because I’m taking a paper on the sociology of death and dying. So, no escaping it, really.

I don’t want to though. It’s so much a part of life and it’s necessary for me to feel connected to it, in some way. To be ‘okay’ with it, if there ever can be such a thing. Death is fucking shit. Losing people you love for good, is shit. No two ways about that fact. But we are all immortal and we all go at some point, and I want to be somewhat at peace with that. It is not something I want to avoid thinking about and dealing with.

I’m afraid of dying, but I’m more afraid of the people I love dying. Because I have to live with that loss, somehow, but if I die and there is an afterlife I might get to see all those people I love who’ve gone before me, and if there isn’t one, well I’ll be dead so I won’t care.

I can see why some people prefer to believe in the afterlife: it’s more comforting. ‘Forever’ with the people you love exists, an eternity with them is then real. You would never have to leave your parents, your children, your lover, your friends, your pets, your whoevers.