WHEN my friend Pia passed away in early 2013, I kicked myself for weeks because I was meant to catch up with her just a couple of months before that, but fell ill. I asked her if we could postpone, but I never followed up on it, and soon it was too late.
I was in my early 30s then, so over the years I had experienced a number of deaths – mostly relatives, including two grandparents. While I was sad to lose them, and some affected me more than others, I generally never thought about it much other than occasionally missing them.