I am going to visit Uncle John after lunch, then go to my house and haul out the dead. One could be buried, 20 something just isn't feasible and the sheer numbers are a bit overwhelming.
Each one had a name and a personality and a history. Many I've raised from babies. Some were fairly valuable, some had value only to me. Some of them were wild caught, coming from Africa a place I've always wanted to see. Many were the current pinnacles of other people's breeding program-they best they had produced so far.
Death is such a strange thing. One minute, a being has all this potential, the next it's gone forever. Just gone. Where does it go?
Entire religions and societies have been built around what a group believes happens to us after we die. Wars, atrocities all because of what we think will happen after we die.
Maybe we should spend more time thinking on what we'll do while we are alive.