We largely ignore death until
someone dies or
we almost do.

If someone dies, we
briefly mention heaven
(the place everyone goes)
tell our fondest memories, and
(after all the lasagnas and casseroles
are eaten from the freezer)
learn to live with the fact that
we will never see or hear from
our loved one again.

If we almost die,
we see life differently and
tell everyone and ourselves that
we are changed and that we
will not take life for granted.
Some of us stay true to our word,
but some of us forget that scare—
that state of utter vulnerability—and slip back
into our old ways.

Perhaps if we remembered death—
if it were a conversation
often held—
we could grieve together
and laughter at Thanksgiving
would feel the same
despite the empty seat at the table.

Perhaps if we remembered death—
if it were a conversation
often held—
we would live our lives with
a little more meaning, a little more unity,
and a lot more gratitude.