a lesson about dying

i do not know the man. i did not even know he existed. the heady scent of flowers brought us to know him. they are a testament to how well-loved he was and is. and the epitaph.... short and sweet

Mary Elizabeth Frye wrote it in 1932. here's the definitive version:

Do not stand at my grave and weep,
I am not there; I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow,
I am the diamond glints on snow,
I am the sun on ripened grain,
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning’s hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circling flight.
I am the soft star-shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there; I did not die.

i can't help but wonder whether the people who gave him flowers as a tribute to his life now that he is dead, ever gave him flowers when he was still alive as a celebration of his life then?

what is it about death that makes us celebrate life? why not celebrate life now that we can still let people know we appreciate them?

so many questions. and i don't even know George. i just know one thing. i will celebrate my life. and i will let the precious people in my life know how much i appreciate them. thank you for being you :)