Have you ever taken the opportunity to walk through a graveyard and consider the names and dates on the stones? I have. I will look at the grave marker of a man who died before the Great War and wonder, what was he like? What was his favorite food? Was he brisk, attentive, melancholy? What was his story? And I mourn not for the man, but for the richly detailed story of the man's life... a story that died away in pieces, as the last people who had ever known him also passed away.
Every marker in the graveyard represents thousands of days both good and bad, each with its own experiences and feelings and acts and impulses and thoughts, and the book of them is closed and sealed forever, never to be opened again. These were people, with hopes and dreams and vices and secrets, now all gone.
That's the sense I get when I wander through a graveyard. Does anyone else sense that?