death

I used to believe that you had to keep moving. If you kept still (like while you were sleeping) god would think you were dead. So whenever I went to bed I would always kick.

I used to believe…

When I was a child, we lived on a street with a funeral home on the corner. For some reason, I, as well as several neighbor kids, seemed to think this was the only funeral home in town (our town was NOT that small). This led to speculation about what they did with the dead people while waiting for the funeral. We decided, since it wasn't a large place, that they stored them in a secret room under the parking lot. After deciding that, some of the kids didn't want to ride their bikes or skateboards in the lot, even though it was the best place around for practicing tricks.

I used to believe…

When i was younger my dog died, I asked my grandma where she went and she replied " doggy heaven" from then on i believed there was thousands of heavens. EX: doggy heaven cat heaven fish heaven.

I used to believe…

my brother once told me that the reason coffins were only halfway open was because the lower half of the body was cut off. That had me terrified at my mom's funeral. I was 8.

i thought that when people got to a certain age (80 or so) they would start getting young and become a baby. i was 8 years old and talking about when "I was born again", imagine my disbelief when my mother explained death to me...i was horrified, the shock never really wore off.

I used to believe…

my nephew and nieces' grandmothers dog for since they were born died, he said 'can we just tie a ballon 2 a puppy and send it up 2 God 2 give joe joe back' it was cute but so sad

I used to believe…

When i was little i thought that if and animal died and you buried it, in exactly one day it would float up to heaven so one day when me and my friend saw a dead rat we buried it and the next day we went out to where we buried it to watch it float to heaven.

I used to believe if you got a splinter and you couldn't get it out, that it would travel through your blood stream, poke a hole in your heart and kill you. This is thanks to my older sister, who frequently scared the crap out of me as a kid.

I was very naieve when I was young (still am). I don't remember the year, but I was maybe 7 or so; that would have made it '67. When I saw a movie called, "Your Cheatin' Heart" about Hank William's life, starring George Hamilton I thought Mr. Hamilton was actually Hank Williams and died right there before my eyes. I cried and cried about that.

I used to believe that you would get a letter in the mail and that told you that it was your time to die. I thought you would enter the big gates of the cemetary and then soldiers would come out at shoot you. What also supported my idea was the large gates and fences which I thought were there to prevent you from running out without being shot.

i remember when i was little a friend of the family had passed away, my parents told me that we were going to his wake, when we got there i just sat around watching the casket waiting for him to wake up. I thought everyone else was there for that purpose too.

I used to believe…

When I was 7, I had my first experience with death. My great-grama died. At the wake - I met a lot of people I had never met before. I was standing with my grama (my great grandmother's daughter). Talking to a lady that was standing with us - I said "That's my grama over there in that box". The lady just happened to be my great grandmother's sister.

I used to believe…

when i was around six i used to watch this t.v. show called walker, texas ranger. and one this one episode this guy pulled his pinky and died.( i think thats what happen). and i beleived if i popped my pinky i would die. for years i would not pop my pinky. then finally i got the guts to pop it and i didnt die!

I was around 5 years old and was watching on TV an annual broadcast tribute to JFK. My big brother told me that I had killed him and that I had just blocked it out. I believed him and became hysterical. Mind you, JFK died in 1963 and I was born in 1967...

I had heard then term "kick the bucket" and took it very literally. When I was about 6 i kicked over the janitor's mop bucket at school. I was convinced I was going to die. One of my teachers was walking down the hall, and saw me sitting on the floor and crying. I couldn't manage to explain coherently why I was crying, and she just assumed I was crying out of fear of being in trouble. She alerted the janitor, who cleaned up the water. After I didn't die, for a year or so I thought that it would be ok to kick over a bucket if whatever was in it was ceaned up fast enough. Then someone explaines.

I used to believe when someone dies and they put him into coffin and bury under ground, his body remains intact forever and doesn't rot, and if somewhere (like in the movie) there was skeleton lying, I believed it was because the owner had died of something that just tore all the flesh off his body.