I just learned that a friend from years back died from a heart attack this past Friday. He wasn't even 50. It's very sad.
And even sadder, while I remember him - having been reminded of him through his death - I do not remember his face. And I know that, when I lived in the commune, I talked to this man nearly every day, at least for a few years. I probably cooked his breakfast on numerous occasions...
It's sad when we forget people who have been part of our lives, only to remember them - and then only in bits and pieces - when they die.
I've found that death affects me much more profoundly now - especially after my dad's death. Even the death of kittens can make me weepy. But I also feel the celebration/joy of someone's life so much more profoundly now too... It's a double-edged sword, and all-in-all I'm glad for it.