I am sitting on the train to Åkersberga, my childhood neighborhood. I am going to celebrate Easter at my sister’s place and I am really looking forward to it.
I appreciate these family gatherings more and more each year. Perhaps it is because someone increasingly seems to manage to get themselves on the guest list of life: death. With each passing year, the probability rises that the Grim Reaper might crash the party.
It is not something I consciously dwell on, and while I am not afraid of death, the realization of life’s fragility becomes clearer as I get older. This, in turn, leads to stronger bonds and a deeper love for those who are still with us.
In a way, the awareness of passing away becomes a catalyst for bringing us closer together.