Every soul deserves a prayer

Tonight I just got news from my aunt that a co-worker at her hair salon died of a car crash. It was on her way out of Giant Pharmacy picking up her medicine after leaving work. It's a little ironic: she picks up medicine that will essentially help her live longer by fighting sickness or improving her health, but before she can even go home to properly ingest it, her life has ended in a second.

One time I said to my uncle that I typically don't like to find any kind of death a funny matter unless it's an ironic death. I take it back. Every death is a solemn matter, and every soul deserves a prayer.
I spend a lot of my life planning for the future and deciding what to do with my life 20 years down the road, but it takes another person's death to remind me that nothing about my future, not even my future itself, is guaranteed. I optimize my chances of living a long life every day by taking care of my diet and practicing safety measures when I'm out in public, but in the end, anything can happen.

When I stop to think about it, I don't fear death. I'm only afraid of my life ending on bad terms. I hope her life ended at the fine time.