We often have one schedule for a day, one way of doing something, until finally the schedule is ruined shattered, gone. Death, the one inevitable trait of everything consumes it as one of its own. And yet we still weep, as if this characteristic of life is something new, strange and foreign. We mourn not only because we lost a loved, but we fear the same will happen to us we cannot grasp the idea of being dead, Most fear the day when all memory is lost, all thoughts and feelings vanished once again claimed by death. But some don’t, those that don’t are the ones that feel that life has carried them to long and far, and death would be relief from the hardships of society and humanity. These people are the only true people that can fathom and discern the title of death.