You'll Be The Death of Me.

Photo taken by: Izwan Danial.

So it's Valentine's Day and you're probably expecting something sappy or mushy, well, not this time. I was in Paris earlier this week and a few of us decided to visit the Père Lachaise Cemetery, the city's largest one. It may sound a bit morbid, but with all the aviation accidents and terrorist attacks, it's hard not to think about death.

I think contemplating mortality is something everyone should be comfortable doing. How else are we going to appreciate life more? Strolling through the cemetery in Winter definitely amplified these thoughts, and I often wonder what stories lie behind those graves. Did Félix Faure's scandal cause him his life? Was Georges Rodenbach so unwilling to die at a young age that he broke out of his gravestone? Was Tignous ready to sacrifice freedom of speech for his life?

When you finally leave this mortal coil, what story do you want the living to tell? Or have you even lived a life worth telling? After all, it is often those left behind who need to deal with the pain of one's passing, and “story telling” is one way to make it ache less. I'm sure flowers don't mean anything to the dead, but it is still common to see bouquet after bouquet at a cemetery. Perhaps most people find the colors at a cemetery too somber.

If you haven't thought about death before, maybe it's time to start asking yourself a few “what if's”. Anyway, to those who are celebrating, have a happy Valentine's Day!

x