Death is the moment your experience ends.
It is one of the oldest human fears.
Everyone who has ever lived has carried it.
What waits beyond, this book does not claim to know.
That it leaves to you.
But this much is certain:
what you have done does not end when you do.
It continues in the people you changed,
the memories you left,
the harm you caused,
the healing you made possible,
and the small turns in the world
that began with you and have not yet ended.
The world is different because you were in it.
It stays different.
You did not grow in a garden,
in rows, to a plan.
You grew where life placed you,
and bloomed anyway.
The wildflower that was you
becomes soil.
Soil from which
those after you may grow.
You do not vanish.
You become consequence.