death: people

I used to believe…

that if you stuck out your tongue at your mother, your hand would stick up out of the grave when you died.

i was at a funeral and mad a poem about my best friend in the world, i didn't cry and i knew god needed him. I saw him as an angel in the sky like his name was going to make him that, his name was Angel. From then on I believed that when everyone dies they become what they're name means

when I was little I believed that you could die before realizing it...amost like that Robert Crane book. You could get hit by a car and you'd think that the car missed you. You would go on living but in another universe you would have died at that instant. this would keep happening an infinate number of times. I also wondered who god's mommy and daddy were.

When I was about 6 I was very interested in death - my grandfather having died. Now, some people told me he went UP to heaven, and other people told me he went DOWN into the ground. It took me a while to figure it out - but I did. I just knew that he must have been cut in half in the middle, that his top half had Gladwrap around the bottom of it (to stop his insides falling out), then it was sent up to heaven, and the bottom half went into the coffin and then into the ground.

I still reckon it was good thinking.

When I was very young I used to believe that if you got anything small and sharp stuck in you (eg a needle)it would get inside you, travel through your bloodstream straight to your heart and kill you. Why did I believe this? Because my mother told me. Someone had told her the same thing many years previously and she still believed it at the age of 35

I used to think that the meaning of life was to figure out what the meaning of life really is, and in that very moment that you do, you die. Therefore the smarter you are, the younger you'll die.

When I was around 6, I thought that the earth will be fully destroyed in 2000 and the human beings shall be disappeared. Thanks God, it's 2003 now I am 23 already.

When I was very little, I had an Aunt Minnie who was always very sick. She was near death at one point, and my mom suggested that I write her a get well card. Here's what I wrote: "Dear Aunt Minnie, I hope you did not die. If you did, please write me back soon. Love, Amanda"

i used to believe that souldiers came out of tombstones in cemetries when something bad was happening.I dont why i started believing this or why i stopped believning it.

When my great-grandmother died, my parents told me to not be sad because she was going to a better place where she would always be happy and be with the people she loved. Well...it sounded so nice that I decided I'd join her....by hitching a ride in her coffin. I waited till the viewing part of the ceremony was over and no one was really paying attention, then climbed in. If my uncle hadn't been late to pay his final respects and opened up the casket, I just might've been an unsuspecting passenger on my great-grandmothers last voyage.

I used to believe that when you died your coffin was taken up to heaven by a helicopter. I remember wanting to be buried in the cupboard in my old school room, because the doors didn't quite shut properly and I would be able to take advantage of the great views.

This story is still a source of hilarity in my family whenever it is recalled. When I was a very small child, my family had goldfish and tropical fish as pets. Occasionally, when one of the fish would die, I would see my mother or father removing the fish from the tank and giving it a rather inglorious funeral service by flushing it down the commode. It happened that one of my aunts died and my mom and dad were readying themselves for the funeral and when they explained to me where they were going and why, I apparently asked them if they were going to flush Aunt Wanda down the toilet. Of course, up until that point in my young life, my only experience of death were the fish being transported away through the toilet.

I used to believe that when you died your body would kinda crack open in a line over head down your shoulders and arms and so on for the blood to get out. I have no idea where I got that idea from.

Someone told me that I would die from blood poisoned if I got ink stains on my hands. A couple of days after being stained, I would see a blue line developing from the stain, and I'd be dead when the blue line reached the heart! I was terrified!

I used to think that my parents would die before they got home. So I used to believe that if I just said something like: "I hope my parents don´t die" to god, many, many times they wpuld get home safe.
But they always did so I don´t know if it helped or was just something in my head.

My dad would drive past a funeral palour on our way home from school and it was called 'Docking Funerals' I thought for years that you had to dock a funeral when sombody died.