How long would you miss me when I pass away?
One day you’re gone away forever. Your footprints will be erased from the path of the earth.
Some people will still find you on Google. But will anyone really miss you? I feel empty when I think that everything in this world will be as usual when I will stop roaming on the landscape of the earth.
Birds will sing as they do today, flowers will blossom as they do today. Everyone besides me will wake up with a shiny face. Nobody will play my piano.
Some of my Facebook friends have passed away in recent time. Friends wrote condolence notes on their walls. It seems to me a routine as people wish happy birthdays.
People show their condolences for sometimes when someone passes away. But those sympathies are short living. People forget dead people very fast.
I know the reality of life and death. We are born with sentences. We don’t know when sentences will be executed.
I will die sooner or later. I often wonder how my family and friends will remember me when I am gone. I don’t think that they will remember my death anniversary the way they remember my birthday.
This thought gives me pensive sadness. I will not feel anything when I don’t live anymore. But I can’t live with the fact that people will not miss me, the world will not feel my absence.
I am here only in the present. I was not here yesterday, I will not be here tomorrow. My footmarks will disappear from the landscape sometimes. It is hard to accept that I don’t have any significance. My existence does not mean anything in the world.
We all want to lasting achievements that prevail after our deaths. We want to have name and fame. If we don’t have something significant, we at least build a house or something like that. We expect that our accomplishments will remain after death. We want our legacies to pass on to the next generation.
But whatever we do, people don’t remember us the way we want to. Death is obvious; it does not scare me much. I have a hard time accepting the brutal truth that nobody will miss me when I am gone.
The world is a beautiful but brutal place. We are good at showing compliments. We greet our friends and families; we hug them when we meet. They express their love and feelings for you. They congratulate you for your achievements.
All compliments and well-wishes are empty curtseys. People do these as long as you are physically present. When you are gone, everything is gone.
Even when you are alive, you can not count on anyone when you are in need. You are on your own. You are alone in the crowd.
People have compassion, empathy, and kindness for one another although our own interests come first.
You can live in a mansion but after death, you will get a nameplate on your grave. Not many will put flowers on your grave.
We are doing and planning things for the future. We are not giving considerations to the possibility of our deaths in plannings. We are pretending as if we are immortal.
Even we accomplish our plans, we may not be here to see results. We build a house but will not live there long. The world will go on without us. Some of us will not be part of it
My old father does not find anything good about being old: