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Lessons Learned about Death in America

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We go through stages in life, ending in death. We see more sunrises and more sunsets, and the years behind us increase while the years in front of us decrease. Without our trying or ability to stop it, following a natural course, the experience of death becomes gradually more intimate until it brings the end to our own life.  In my case, the first was my great aunt, when I was about 9, who died from suicide. Although I went to the funeral, my youth and weather prevented me from getting a full funeral experience. It was a sunny day and my younger sister and I had matching made-by-hand green flowery pant suits with a halter top (think 1970s). I mostly played and giggled during the day, except after the funeral. Then a heaviness of heart, a cloud, came over me as I walked up the steps of my great-grandmother’s house. As time passed, the deaths came closer: my aunt’s close friend who died in a motorcycle accident, my grandmother’s close friend, my great-grandmother, my father-i