There's a line from the Thumbelina movie stuck in my head for the past year or so. Its a song with the line of this post's title in it. I prefer "dead" to "passed away"; "gone to a better place"; and "no longer with us". It is what it is. Death. Not pretty. Not politically correct or tidy or kind.
Like my cousin's husband who died earlier today of a heart attack. Dead.
I mean no disrespect to his wife and children and grandchildren. There's just no better word to describe the craziness of being alive one minute, making plans to spend the summer camping at Bird's Hill and the next moment, simply not existing.
We're supposed to know what to do with the insides of our own dying bodies when people we love go ahead and DIE. But we go on, breathing in and out, our crushing chests aching with life.