According to a Mexican tradition, there are the three kinds of death.
First comes the biological death. The organs refuse to go on, the brain gives up, it’s over. There’s nothing to be done. That is the first death in Mexico.
Then comes the funeral and the lowering of the deceased into the ground. People dig a hole, place the casket, and fill up the hole so that no one can see the dead (except the very interested ones). The space the deceased should occupy is empty, the people they should be around are now alone. That is the second death in Mexico.
The third… is a special kind. Monumental and insignificant. The third death in Mexico happens when no one’s left around to remember us. No more candles, memorial mass, or visits to the grave. Nothing remains. That is the third death, in Mexico.
Hard to think about, isn't it? To know that you've lived, breathed, dreamed, cried, tried, and laughed, only to vanish without a trace.
Without, eventually, someone even to say your name.