I hope death feels like coming home after a long day, where the weight of the world melts away as you step through the door. I hope it feels like the soft embrace of twilight, the quiet rustle of leaves outside your window, and the gentle hum of familiarity that tells you everything is finally at peace.
I hope it feels like lying in your favorite spot, wrapped in a blanket that carries the scent of love and safety. Like a hand brushing your hair away from your face, a voice whispering, “Rest now, you’ve done enough.” I hope it’s the quiet joy of knowing you’re surrounded by love, the soft glow of memories lighting your way, and the deep serenity of being exactly where you belong.
I hope it feels like a warm hug that lingers, the kind that makes you feel held, not just physically, but in the depths of your soul. I hope it’s like the rhythm of your favorite song, the one that plays in the background of the moments that matter most.
I hope it feels like whispers of love from every corner of the universe, guiding you gently to a place where pain no longer exists and where every piece of you is finally whole. I hope it’s the sweetest exhale, a release into something vast and endless, where you are no longer bound but beautifully free.
I hope it feels like going home—not just to a place, but to yourself.
