The problem with death is not dying. The problem is for the living, for those left behind who become orphaned and grieving for that chunk of self that has been ripped away.
Dying is easy, staying behind and going on with life without your loved one is hard. Those whom we love, are part of us and when they are gone, our life is left with a large empty hole. The grief is unbearable, yet we tread on and make it one day at a time until the dull pain is lessened. It will always be there, but we will have reconciled with the fact that we have to keep on going without them, waiting our turn.
I’m not so afraid of dying, I’m afraid of losing people and living on without them. That is the problem I have with death.