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Mortal death scares the living daylights out of me. But the concept of star death is so innate and natural in our solar cycle, the thought is almost comforting.
In part, it might be that the matter that makes up my form doesn't just disappear. It disipates, scatters. My kinetic energy travels on and on until something else comes along to collect it. Then that energy is dispersed out into the cosmic landscape at large.
Maybe it's the infinity. The great, ever stretching infinity we all hail from. It, in and of itself, is a form of immortality. The science of my spiritual existence is comforting.
Even this mortal flesh doesn't simply rot into nothing. It will decay, and rejoin this planet's life cycle. And when something inevitably comes along to eviscerate this beloved terrestrial, it too, will join the cosmic landscape.
It too, becomes infinity.
And all that which I will mourn will inevitably become one with me again.
But generally speaking, stars just kinda die. And I think I'm okay with that.