The spectre of death affects both the living and the dead. No one wants to die. No matter how much they suffer. Because living means freedom, the ability to breath, move, feel, cry…
In Hinduism they say even the gods choose to take birth on earth just to experience the sheer joy of living, loving, losing.
As I spend feverish nights dreaming of mom, I see the alternate realities my mind projects: things that could have been, a slight detour and perhaps she would have healed, perhaps a different medicine at the right time and she would have lived…possibilities are endless.
I have read that even the dead, especially the ones who had a traumatic death, replay in an endless sequence the moment of their death, hoping that perhaps this one time they might crack the code and return to the world of the living.
So many people, all haunted, all seeking answers, when there are none. There is only faith that our god or nature will take care of our loved one and some day ease our journey to the other side.