Death Essays (1395 words) - English-language Films, Films, Neo-noir

Death Death: Good for the Dead, Bad for the Dying, and Worse for Those It Leaves Behind My whole life, death has been a distant thing to me. It is not even really a thing, but more of an idea. I have heard about death millions of times with the media. Everyday in the news, people are dying left and right with disease in the foreign countries, famine in distant lands, and even murder in the suburbs. I even heard about it a few times from my friends when they told me about their recent loses. With all of these stories of tragedy and awful accidents, I never felt any emotion. The news reporter's sympathy for these victims was not convincing enough to make me think that something tragic had happened, or my elementary school friend did not understand the situation himself in order to feel pain. If something was truly awful about the story, it was too far away for me to consider it a reality. When I was about eight years old, I experienced the first death in my family. My father's sister had died and my he got a call soon after. I was in the room when the phone rang and my dad answered the phone. He first sounded excited to hear the voice on the other end, but that happiness soon turned to devastation. His only sister had passed away and he began to cry. My father is not a crying man, and he soon regained his composure and finished the conversation. He was able to put his sadness aside and tend to business. This was a very small event, but it had a large impact on me and helped shape my ideas about the idea of death. The way that I saw my father handle this so-called tragedy gave me the impression that life was almost like a movie. What goes on in the movie might be sad or scary or whatever, but it is not a big deal. We just need to get over the emotion because the movie is still playing and something different is happening now. The reason that this event was not a traged y to me is that it was extremely distant from me and in reality, it had very little to do with me. My aunt lived very far away from my home, so we rarely visited and I have no memories of her except for a very fuzzy mental picture. We did not attend the funeral because of the distance, but my father flew to pay his last respects to his sister. He was gone for a couple of days and was a little shaky when he returned, but all-in-all things were just like normal. Moral of the story: Death is a small speed bump, which should not be adjusted for, but should not be a big deal. When death occurs in a person's life, they put down what they are doing and tend to the matter, they come back to continue their business, and make like normal. They, with good reason, take off of school or work. They make up for the things that they missed and everything is fine again. They do not want to bring their emotions because they do not want to show their pain to others. They repress their feelings for the benefit of others. When I see this, I see a person who has experienced this thing called death, but they are not sad. This just reinforces the ideas that I have made for myself about death and its place in life. About four years ago, I had my first realization of the power of death. This was a slight taste of what death really meant, but it came at a huge cost for others. It all started one day in the middle of summer. I was downstairs watching the television while my older sister and her friend were hanging out upstairs. We all heard a few pops that sounded a lot like small firecrackers that came from outside. I disregarded this noise as neighborhood children messing around, but my sister and her friend went outside to investigate. The sight that they found would change their lives. On