Even when we save one’s life, we just postpone death, and death will take the very next chance to happen if we don’t pay enough attention.
It’s almost like we’re given a certain number of days with a variable error margin. It’s up to us if we live them all, extend them, or shorten them, but we can’t change too much in our favor. The number of days is more or less the same, no matter what we do. The only thing that is somehow up to us is “how”, as a consequence of every decision we make.
Death is uncontrollable. We are all programmed for it. We’re all afraid of it. We all abhor it. Not knowing exactly “when” is what enables us to enjoy life – ours, and the loved ones’ around us. Love is the only thing that makes “how” bearable.