What Death Taught Me About Life — A Lesson You’ll Never Forget
It’s a devastating feeling when you talk to someone just three days ago, and suddenly, they are no longer on this earth. You call them, expecting a familiar voice, but the silence on the other end is deafening.
The finality of death is difficult to grasp — how can someone who existed so fully, so presently, just… disappear?
I lost my grandmother — my mum’s mother on 25th Feb 2025. She was 85 years old. She had a presence that filled the room, a mix of warmth, strength, and undeniable style. She never hesitated to say things as they were. She loved mangoes, and she loved life. I remember her smile, her taunts, the way she kissed us, pouring all her love into her grandkids. She was breathtakingly beautiful in her younger years, and even as time took its toll, her spirit remained fierce.
Her last days were hard. Watching her go through them was painful. And now, all that’s left are her photos, the echoes of her laughter in my mind, the love she gave, and the things she taught me.
The Psychology of Grief
Grief is a paradox. It is love persisting in the absence of the loved one. Psychologists like Elisabeth Kübler-Ross outline the five stages of grief — denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance — but the reality is that grief is not linear. It loops, repeats, and resurfaces when we least expect it.
Psychiatrists studying bereavement describe grief as an adjustment disorder — our minds struggling to recalibrate to a world that suddenly feels incomplete. Studies show that losing a loved one can even rewire our neural pathways, as the brain tries to adapt to the loss of familiar patterns and interactions. This is why grief can feel like losing a part of yourself.
The Regret of Taking Life for Granted
Life is unpredictable. It is a gift we often take for granted. We assume time is infinite, that there will always be another conversation, another visit, another chance to make amends. But death doesn’t wait for closure. It leaves behind unfinished conversations and unspoken words.
Psychologists call this “anticipatory regret” — the realization that we didn’t appreciate someone enough while they were here. It’s why we replay memories in our minds, searching for moments we wish we had cherished more. The brain, in its attempt to cope, clings to the past to keep the connection alive.
Who Hurts When We Die?
When a person dies, they no longer feel pain. But those left behind do. Mourning is not for the dead — it is for the living. Neuroscientists studying grief found that emotional pain activates the same brain regions as physical pain. This is why loss can feel like a weight on the chest, an ache in the stomach, an exhaustion that words cannot explain.
We don’t mourn because someone is gone. We mourn because of what they meant to us, what they represented in our lives, and the irreplaceable void they leave behind.
How Different Cultures Celebrate Death
While many cultures view death as a tragic loss, others celebrate it as a transition rather than an end.
- In Ghana, elaborate fantasy coffins are designed to reflect the deceased’s passions — coffins shaped like airplanes for pilots, cameras for photographers, or even animals for those with deep spiritual connections.
- In Indonesia’s Toraja community, the dead are not immediately buried but kept in their family homes, cared for and spoken to for months or even years as part of the Ma’nene ritual.
- In South Korea, due to limited burial space, cremated remains are often turned into colorful beads, symbolizing a transformation rather than loss.
- In Tibetan Buddhism, Sky Burials involve leaving bodies for vultures to consume, representing the impermanence of life and the return of the body to nature.
Across the world, death is seen not just as an end, but as a bridge between the past and the future.
Honoring Their Presence
So, what do we do with grief? Psychiatry suggests that closure is not about forgetting, but about integrating the loss into our lives. We find ways to honor their memory — not just by remembering them in sadness, but by carrying forward the love, the lessons, and the moments they gave us.
In Mexican culture, Día de Muertos — the Day of the Dead — is a reminder that those we love never truly leave us. Families create altars adorned with offerings — food, photos, and candles — to welcome back the spirits of their ancestors. It’s not a somber occasion but a joyful celebration of life and death, recognizing that love transcends the physical world.
Perhaps that is how I will remember my grandmother — not as someone I lost, but as someone who remains with me. In the stories I tell, in the lessons she taught me, in the small things that remind me of her — mangoes, honesty, and unfiltered love.
Because in the end, love is what lingers. And that is how we keep them with us, always.
