I grew up in a Christian home and I always hated it. I hated having to go to church and sit through sermons about a God that I didn't believe in. But I've come to realize that it had its perks.
I didn't have to grow up dealing with alcoholic parents, or parents who were on drugs. I just grew up in a family where we all stuck to ourselves. I didn't grow up having abusive parents. I didn't grow up having anything eternally scarring.
What I have realized though is that I'm just the same as everyone else when it comes to death. But I'm not really sure how to handle it. I haven't had to deal with deaths in my family in a long time. My Uncle died of a drug when I was young, and it never really bothered me until I got older, because we weren't very close. But as I got older that's when it it hit me: I never really knew my uncle.
I didn't find out why he actually died until years after his death, and I cried because my parents had lied to me. I always find myself wishing that my I had known my uncle for a longer period of time, that he had survived just a few more years. But of course we can't turn back time. And just from that one death it's been eating at me for years, a constant sadness in the back of my mind that I can get rid of.
So it makes me wonder, how do people deal with death? I guess I just don't understand.
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