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Dec. 2nd, 2011 09:31 pmMy microbiology professor passed away sometime this Thursday (possibly in his sleep - they didn't tell us how he died). He was old and it was his time, really.
That's not comforting though. I was fine all day today when I found out even though some people in class were wrecks and then I was eating dinner and going over my microbiology notes like I sometimes like to do when I'm eating...and I lost it. I didn't really know him, really just knew him for 3+ months but there I was crying pathetically into my salad for someone I didn't know personally but who I saw every day, five times a week for more than an hour.
I wonder about his wife, or if he had any kids. Did he love teaching? He seemed passionate about microbiology and I know he wrote over some 40+ articles on the subject and books on parasites and he was instrumental in getting the new wing of the science building constructed at USM. But beyond that, I don't know anything about him.
Crying is useless. But. Still.
I have had one other teacher die on me. And I'd just like it to stop. (The other teacher was this awesome Special Educations teacher from my country who died when he was only 38 because of a poor heart. :/ I still remember that day in fifth grade vividly.)
How did he die? Did he know he was dying? Is he okay/at peace now? I hate that I can't believe in anything beyond this life. Because I'm scared that there's nothing else. You just close your eyes and you die. And that's it. You never realize it's your last breath. And the world continues on without you because you were just a small speck inhabiting its vastness.
I'd like to believe that death is so mysterious because we possibly can't contemplate it beyond our human brains. But...what if there is NOTHING to contemplate about death? Our bodies work on the assumption that our hearts beat but everything has to end sometime and I can't believe that there's anything beyond our physical lives.
I still think about that teacher from the fifth grade even though it's been nine years.
My paternal grandmother passed away last May, and I never said anything about it because I was numb about it and if I didn't talk or mention it maybe it wouldn't be true then. She passed away from stomach cancer and yeah, they could've operated, but it would've made her worse. And her death is a tragedy, pilled on the tragedy that the last time I ever saw her I was only about seven.
That's not comforting though. I was fine all day today when I found out even though some people in class were wrecks and then I was eating dinner and going over my microbiology notes like I sometimes like to do when I'm eating...and I lost it. I didn't really know him, really just knew him for 3+ months but there I was crying pathetically into my salad for someone I didn't know personally but who I saw every day, five times a week for more than an hour.
I wonder about his wife, or if he had any kids. Did he love teaching? He seemed passionate about microbiology and I know he wrote over some 40+ articles on the subject and books on parasites and he was instrumental in getting the new wing of the science building constructed at USM. But beyond that, I don't know anything about him.
Crying is useless. But. Still.
I have had one other teacher die on me. And I'd just like it to stop. (The other teacher was this awesome Special Educations teacher from my country who died when he was only 38 because of a poor heart. :/ I still remember that day in fifth grade vividly.)
How did he die? Did he know he was dying? Is he okay/at peace now? I hate that I can't believe in anything beyond this life. Because I'm scared that there's nothing else. You just close your eyes and you die. And that's it. You never realize it's your last breath. And the world continues on without you because you were just a small speck inhabiting its vastness.
I'd like to believe that death is so mysterious because we possibly can't contemplate it beyond our human brains. But...what if there is NOTHING to contemplate about death? Our bodies work on the assumption that our hearts beat but everything has to end sometime and I can't believe that there's anything beyond our physical lives.
I still think about that teacher from the fifth grade even though it's been nine years.
My paternal grandmother passed away last May, and I never said anything about it because I was numb about it and if I didn't talk or mention it maybe it wouldn't be true then. She passed away from stomach cancer and yeah, they could've operated, but it would've made her worse. And her death is a tragedy, pilled on the tragedy that the last time I ever saw her I was only about seven.
