Nobody exists on purpose.
“Here is a test to find out whether your mission in life is complete. If you’re alive, it isn’t”
- Lauren Bacall (September 16, 1924 - August 12, 2014)
'Junior Will & Testament' (see newspaper advertisement below) was produced by Scarfolk Legal Games & Documents Ltd. While it familiarised children with the inevitability of their demises in a fun way, it also introduced them to their civic obligations. For example, many children were not aware that, like adults, they were subject to death duty. Any child who owned more than 20 toys at the time of its passing was expected to part with 26.5% of them; 50% for more than 40 toys. After several years of the 'grave game tax', as it become known colloquially, the council noticed that many of the toys it was receiving in payment were clearly not the children's favourite toys. (via Scarfolk Council)
On March 2, more than four years ago now, Lea died of substance-abuse-related liver failure. June 10 would have been her 27th birthday. This time of year is when she’s always most on my mind, and I’m sure that some Facebook technician who keeps track of what we all do on the site would report that my visits to Lea’s profile increase exponentially as the weather gets warmer. I don’t know how, exactly, I managed to open up my old messages with Lea. I want to say that Facebook put the messages there—that I didn’t click the button, that they just appeared, Lea’s face popping up because she had something to say, she wanted to chat. (via She’s Still Dying on Facebook - Julie Buntin - The Atlantic)
When anyone we care about dies, it hurts. And it’s meant to. But when a best friend dies, it hurts in a unique and mysterious way. The pain of losing your friend is severe and almost intolerable, but it should be felt for all it’s worth. You must have the courage to honor your friend by feeling all of it. You can take some comfort in knowing it won’t always hurt in the fresh, stinging way it does now, but it will linger and somewhat soften until it’s primarily a memory of the pain you feel now. I can remember how it hurt when I broke my nose — the immediate pain was unimaginably intense, and even though it’s well healed now, the suffering is easily recalled and the blinding pain can almost be felt via memory. This is important. (via Ask Andrew W.K.: How to Cope With the Death of a Friend | Village Voice)