death: people

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.

I had an aunt who died when I was, um, four or five, I suppose. My mom told me when we would be going to the funeral and such. I was pretty nervous, because I was under the impression that, at the church, the body would be inside a glass coffin, suspended from the ceiling. To this day I have no idea where this bit of imagery came from.

My daughter plays alot of a game called Ratchet and Clank(I mean the whole series she is crazy about it) and in there if you get killed ratchet spins around and falls down. My daughter believes that when people die they all spin around and fall down. She still doesn't believe me when I say they don't

My Mom and I used to drive up to another town in California to visit some friends of hers quite often. On the way, we would always pass the same Kentucky Fried Chicken restaurant. In the window was propped a life-size mannequin of Colonel Sanders, the company's mascot. The first time we drove past it, my mother, thinking herself to be hilarious, told me that the mannequin was actually the REAL Colonel Sander's mummified body, preserved, stuffed, and put up for display. I believed this for many years afterward, always staring with amazement as we drove by, wondering why the body had not decayed yet, and squeezing my eyes shut when the glare of the dead Colonel got to be too much for me to handle. Thanks, Mom.

When I was five, my Grandad died. A few months later, my cousin had a baby. When I asked my Mum why my cousin's baby had been born after my Grandad died, she said it was because when someone in a family died, someone was born to replace them. The next time there was a birth in the family, I was terrified that someone else was going to die!

my mum told me that you should live everyday like it was your last. when she said this, i thought that i was going to die the next day so i did everything that i wanted to do with my friends-that included sharing a cubicle in the girls loos at school! (i was about 6 at the time). when i got home i rang all of my friends up saying i would die soon and they were distraught. the next day when i went into school, they all thought i was a ghost and it took alot of convincing that i wasn't

When I was younger, I used to pile pillows up on me while I slept. I believed that if someone broke into the house, the pile of pillows would stop a bullet if the stranger decided to shoot me.

When I was about 5 a friend of mine told me that the tufted grass that you see on roadside embankments was the hair of dead people that had been buried in the hillside.

When I was about 3 & attending my grandmother's laying-out (at her home), I went over to her & touched her cheek. I did it VERY gently, & so got the erroneous impression that dead people were very soft--&, so, had apparently had their bones taken out! Being young enough to make this mistake I was neither surprised nor dismayed by it, & of course eventually learned better...but I remember thinking this was true for a long time.

I used to believe that any gravestones in the churchyard with big railings round them were for people who had been in prison and they still had to be behind bars even in death

The first time any family member of mine died I was 6. My parents said that we had to go to a "wake" so when we got there, I went an kneeled on the pew and quietly at first said..."Uncle Joe, wake up." When he didn't, I started yelling, and got up and shook him. I was trying to "wake" him up.

i read something in a magazine as a kid about spontaneous combustion that really worried me. the article said it was more likely to happen when it was dry outside. it also said something about how people who spontaneously combusting sometimes completely disappearing with only a few ashes and possibly their singed or melted shoes left behind.

an old lady who lived behind us used to sleep out on a screened-in porch during the spring and summers. for some reason i thought that since she was sleeping outside and spending so much time outside that she was more susceptible to spontaneously combusting. every time i went to her house i was a little afraid of finding only some charred shoes on her porch.

when I was about 5 years old I used to believe anything you buried would go to hevan. So when my papaw died, I buried a pink sparkly bracelet in my backyard with a note saying : from allison. The next morning when I checked to see if it was still there and discovered it was, I was heart broken.

When my son was 5 years old, his great uncle died. I told him we were going to "a wake" for Uncle Steve. Naturally when we arrived at the funeral home, my son was very upset when he couldn't "awake" Uncle Steve. It was very, very sad.

I used to believe that my grandparents (who had passed away) would fly around to spy in the window to make sure my cousins and I were behaving ourselves when someone would tell me they were watching over us.

When I was really little (5 or so) I didn't know that dead people were buried. I thought that they were actually put INSIDE the tombstones and were all...folded up. Then we passed an old graveyard near my house with a tombstone broken in half...I started to wonder why nobody had fixed it to keep the body from falling out.

For a while, I believed that dead people could see right through the earth they were buried in and that they lay there in their coffins looking up at whoever came to visit them. I figured it would be a bad idea to visit a grave while wearing a dress because whoever was buried there would see right up my skirt.

When I was in Kindergarten, I heard that a teacher at my school was getting fired. I thought. "Oh no! She is going to die if she gets fired!" I told my parents that and then my mom told me the truth.