When somebody up and dies all of a sudden, or dies not all of a sudden, like, just dies, and then is no more, there's that perspective aspect that makes me think it should somehow fix a lot of stupid bullshit and whatever keeps us from enjoying each other. Sometimes it does do something like that, after all. It's such a wake-up slap in the face or dousing with cold water or other snap-out-of-it metaphor, showing the Big Picture, pointing out our acute fragility, reminding all around of one big and hard thing we all have to deal with, and thus are connected over, and through. The pervasiveness of loss. The looming temporariness of everything, and along with it the urge to appreciate and enjoy what we have while we have it, more, better, with the focus that a sense of urgency brings to bear. The perspective thing of geez-we're-all-gonna-be-dead-too I-could-lose-any-of-these-people-any-time and I-also-shall-up-and-die-who-knows-how-soon-could-be-today--- it is stirred, on top of the sadness and shock at the loss and goneness of the person who just died.
Maybe it doesn't fix anything, or really make us value each other, and act like it, like I want it to. Doesn't it totally seem like it should? It totally should. If that can't do it, can anything? If that can't do it, does that mean it's not a problem, cuz it doesn't have a solution, so whatever it is it's just got to be accepted? I object! I object to that. And I object to death! Je proteste!
Object with all your might, and so what. Nature is, famously, indifferent. Flatly indifferent.
We'd even rather she were mad at us, like because of how shitty we're treating her, than this utter indifference. And her indifference is nothing next to that of our fellows. Our dear fellows. Which death should damn well fix, if you ask me. If death is gonna suck like it sucks (and it is), it should damn well fix that.
