I was on X earlier this evening and saw this question being discussed: How old were you when you realized that you were going to die someday? The comments and accompanying stories were fascinating. I thought that perhaps it would make for an interesting topic on CB.
So, how old were you when you realized it? What, if you care to share it, is the backstory of your moment?
I was about 5 years old when I realized that someday I was going to die. I watched as one of my uncles tightly wrapped the legs of my great grandfather with bandages. The grownups in the room spoke in hushed voices about how “His time is drawing near.” I had no idea what they meant until a short time later my great grandfather died. The thought crossed my mind, “I wonder if this is how it will be when my time comes?” It was then that I first realized that someday I will die.
It didn’t bother me at the time because I hadn’t yet thought about what it really means to be dead. I just simply didn’t see my great grandfather around anymore. I wasn’t allowed to go the funeral home or to the cemetery. I had the odd idea that he was always at the barn, milking the cows. I didn’t discuss it with anyone. I just assumed that one day, a long time in the future, I would go to the same barn he went to, milk the cows (with him?), and never come back to the house.
One day, probably 6-7 years later, a Southern Baptist preacher disabused me of my childish thought in a terrifying hellfire and brimstone sermon.
So, how old were you when you realized it? What, if you care to share it, is the backstory of your moment?
I was about 5 years old when I realized that someday I was going to die. I watched as one of my uncles tightly wrapped the legs of my great grandfather with bandages. The grownups in the room spoke in hushed voices about how “His time is drawing near.” I had no idea what they meant until a short time later my great grandfather died. The thought crossed my mind, “I wonder if this is how it will be when my time comes?” It was then that I first realized that someday I will die.
It didn’t bother me at the time because I hadn’t yet thought about what it really means to be dead. I just simply didn’t see my great grandfather around anymore. I wasn’t allowed to go the funeral home or to the cemetery. I had the odd idea that he was always at the barn, milking the cows. I didn’t discuss it with anyone. I just assumed that one day, a long time in the future, I would go to the same barn he went to, milk the cows (with him?), and never come back to the house.
One day, probably 6-7 years later, a Southern Baptist preacher disabused me of my childish thought in a terrifying hellfire and brimstone sermon.
