It simultaneously reminds me of the biggest and smallest things . With the deaths I have experienced, I find that I can suddenly contemplate the metal making up a paper clip. But I also gulp as I watch the starry universe expand in my vision at night. I see generations of families spilling onto pages. I see the future and the past, the afterlife and the premortal. Perhaps it is not the biggest and smallest things, perhaps death takes hold on my comprehension of opposites. It awakens my sense to the other side of things. Off and on, darkness and light, fear and faith. It happens early. No one told me how young I would be when it started to creep into my life. And I don't think I'm the exception. The first person I remember dying and it really meaning something to me was a girl named Maura at my high school (I realize this is somewhat incriminating since my Grandad died when I was in 6th grade). I remember the day we found out at school, I was devestated. I was embarassed ...