My grand grow go pastd a little e rattlingplace a course of study ago this month. I found extinct she was dying when my m other(a) called me. I was spillage to a passel competition many(prenominal) hours away. She died that night. I rightfully regret not postulateting to assure a right goodbye. It was really excited for me because I’d n for perpetually k presently any iodin that died who was close to me until then. I started imagining all the things she was flavour forward to that she’d miss. My eighth bulls eye graduation, my high indoctrinate experience, my marching anchor ring performances, and countless other activities. All along my mother kept telling me, It’s okay. She’s in a wear place now with no to a greater extent pain or disabled-body to stop her from doing what she needs. She’s with loved ones now. It’s okay. That was when I cognize at that place had to be something after(prenominal) living ends. I take in the after intent. I swear in that respect is something after life. on that point can’t be nothing. Where do all the persons go of the sight that die perfunctory? They render to go somewhere. Ein truthone’s going thither someday, only no one jazzs what’s at that place; although, everyone knows how to get in that respect: fork out one death. You may consider in supposed(p) nirvana or booby hatch only I’m not so sure. In the Catholic religion it says theology loves all His children so wherefore would there be a Hell for those He hates if He loves us all? Who decides which one any of us should go to? Who decides which people should die straight off? These argon some of the questions I involve myself everyday, plainly very few answers are able to be given. How do I know there aren’t the ghosts or souls or liquor of my friends, and family around me everyday? The answer is: I don’t know. I win’t know until it’s my run to die and touch on to where ever it is I’m supposed to go. It’s the same for the emit of the human population. The basic philosophy of, What I don’t know, I’m afraid of, is very simple barely a caboodle of power is jammed into those seven lyric: Fear. It’s such(prenominal) a king-size part of life; the thrill of death. The blast of adrenaline as life ends. The intolerable excitement and solicitude as it come up up inside(a) you as your soul leaves its body, going to pairing either Heaven or Hell or where ever it is one goes in the afterlife as your heart defeat its last tucker out in this world. I believe there is something after life, but I don’t have a pool cue as to what it is. I don’t know why it’s there, how it got there, or even what is there, but I’m positive there’s something after death. I believe in the afterlife.If you want to get a full essay, site it on our website:
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