My experience 1
My own attitude towards death has naturally changed over the years. I have experienced the death of a much-loved grandmother, a young school friend, a companionable grandfather, a distant aunt, several pets, Vince Welnick, and my own mother. As these deaths touched my life, my attitude changed. Additionally, both exploring the different beliefs of various faiths and finding my own understanding have also changed my viewpoint on death.
The first death that I experienced was that of my grandmother. I was barely four years old when she passed away, and for months afterwards I used to point to the clouds in the sky and inform my mother that I could see Grandma up there. Whether I actually could, or whether I merely wished to and had a partially formed view of the Christian Heaven, I am uncertain, for this was a long time ago now. The next death was that of a young boy who lived across the street named Paul. We knew each other from school for a couple of years before he died in hospital of a disease. I merely knew that he was not going to play the Ludo game with me, which he had given me for my birthday.
I thought very little about death again, other than when a pet goldfish passed on, until my grandfather died. I was aged thirteen at the time. My grandfather was the only funeral I have personally attended to date, other than informal burials for pets in the yard. I found it hard to maintain a respectful neutrality or sadness; instead, it felt natural for me to giggle at the ridiculousness of the formality and rigmarole of the service. My grandfather had been a jolly soul, and the black clothing and stern forlornness of the occasion just did not fit. Happiness seemed far more appropriate, as that is what he had meant to me.
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