I've been experiencing a lot of death around me lately. First, my grandfather died of cancer, then my grandmother followed him shortly - presumably from grief. Last night, I found out my uncle has also died of cancer. Oddly enough, they all shared the same abode.
Although I was quite close to them when I was younger, I find myself not grieving as I should about their demise. I never cried once, and I feel somewhat guilty about that. It's as if reality hasn't set in; I feel that they are not actually dead at all, despite what reason tells me.
Part of me feels very strongly that they are still alive, somewhere. I can't explain it, or rationalize it. I think it is for this reason that I am not grieving over them.
And yet, I myself came very close to death at one point in my life. Nobody had told me anything about it until my brother revealed it to me out of the blue. It must have happened while I was having my major surgery, and for some reason my parents decided to keep it secret from me. I didn't see any light, or experience anything of that sort. So if it did happen, death was the end, and there was nothing.
So I'm conflicted. Is there an afterlife? I've been contemplating about this since I was a small child. I thought religion helped me find the answer at one point, but since I had extricated myself from it, I'm again left with unanswered questions.