Why do some deaths hurt more than others?

One of the cardinal truths of life is that death hurts. The distinctions which normally separate us; race, skin colour, nationality, do not apply here. It is so universal an experience that the mere mention of the loss of a loved one to another can illicit feelings of sadness, precisely, empathy. The general consensus is that we have all lost a loved one. With the death of one’s parent, child, spouse or parent being the most painful. Even so, some deaths seem to register more pain in us than that of others. Why is that? After all, all death is death. There are not varying degrees of death.

For a long time, I’ve always said a silent prayer in my head about dying before my loved ones. That way, I will not have to mourn anyone. This prayer, though selfish, is understandable. It takes too long to recover from grief, sometimes forever, even driving one to the point of lunacy. I know people who never recovered from the loss of their dear ones. At the mere mention of their names, heads are shaken with pity. Yet people who come out of it unscathed(at least outwardly) are termed as “strong.” Even if they’re losing the war in their heads, even if the carpet of their minds have been dragged from under them.

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While there are no varying degrees of death, there are varying degrees of pain. Take for instance a person suffering from a terminal disease. Surely, death must have been in the books. Surely, even if unconsciously, some preparation(s) must have taken place in the minds of loved ones about the inevitability of it all. It doesn’t lessen the blow but it makes the delivery palpable. The manner of death is oftentimes as important as the death itself.

As I write this, I am forced to come face to face (yet again) with the death of loved ones who have been murdered cold-bloodedly, in the hands of gunmen. Years later, my denial is still as fresh as ever. Denial, I believe, is the sister of pain. 

The most painful deaths are the ones that occur suddenly, unexpectedly. They almost seem like an ambush, a betrayal. But isn’t all death sudden? Would a person who is about to lose their loved one be at ease because somehow the inevitability of it was gradual, and not unexpected?