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death.” I paused as the true meaning of his question cleared in my mind.<br />
It was still a conversation, but now I felt my comments were borderline<br />
disturbing. “Those who lived a life with a pure heart, I can only hope that<br />
when they die, they will be cared for on the other side. But the ultimate<br />
actions of the dying, in death, I do not know. I have not seen this.”<br />
Michael listened patiently, and replied with an odd spark in his dull grey<br />
eyes. “John, what if I told you that I have seen death. What if I told you<br />
that in my work, I have seen death so much that I now know there is an<br />
invisible beauty that comes with it. A beauty that is betrayed by the mortal<br />
eye. Only those who pass on can see this beauty, while the living only see<br />
the darkness and emptiness that succumbs the atmosphere.”<br />
I smiled, again it was uncontrollable. It was probably the scotch. It<br />
was the emotions. It was the memories of deathbeds of loved ones and<br />
memorial’s for dead Soldiers. It was the scotch, I had to deflect. I am<br />
getting too deep into my memories, “I’d probably ask you how much<br />
scotch you have had to drink tonight.”<br />
Michael would not relent, he continued in his slow raspy voice,<br />
growing older and wiser with every word. “Picture this, a room dark and<br />
sullen, much like this bar. Despite the number of people that enter into<br />
this room, death lingers. The darkness lingers. The emptiness lingers. Is<br />
that your definition of death’s presence?”<br />
“Sure, that sounds about right.” I responded.<br />
“So take someone you have loved and lost. Someone who you<br />
respected and had a kind heart. Think of them in their final moments,<br />
while you are surrounded by the darkness, they are surrounded by light.<br />
They are surrounded not by the darkness and emptiness that lingers, but<br />
love and peace that awaits them.”<br />
The concept provided a nice visual, but I could not see his point.<br />
Death is an enemy. Death brings pain, loneliness, depression, and<br />
separation. It was the loss that I hated; it was not the act. “It is a nice<br />
concept to say the least.” I responded as a courtesy.<br />
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