Death is inevitable for all of us, but some of us perceive it as something beautiful, often sending us closer to God, while others believe we simply become a black void. There are variations of beliefs in between, but when it comes down to it, most of us would rather die later than sooner.

My views on death are simply this: I wake up overwhelming happy each day, spend my time with extraordinary people, go out into the world and do (maybe not so) extraordinary things, travel to places with people I love, and when death comes, not only will all connections with this world be broken forever, but any recollection I have of it will be gone. Done. I’m a black void that will lack thought and mass.

Is this frightening? Not really. For the small slight of chance that I have of being wary of these neurons in my brain firing, I’d like to take the most out of life. And why do I mention this? Because, sometimes, photojournalism has a way of getting these little messages across.. that sometimes, when you can grasp the significance of life, you finally start living again. And yes, I want to shake you up again.:

Gerda Strech, 68
First portrait:
January 5 2003
Gerda couldn’t believe that cancer was cheating her of her hard-earned retirement. “My whole life was nothing but work, work, work,” she told me. She had worked on the assembly line in a soap factory, and had brought up her children single-handedly. “Does it really have to happen now? Can’t death wait?” she sobbed.

Second portrait:
May 10 2004
When she called him and told him she was dying, he said he’d come straight over. It had been nearly 20 years since they’d exchanged a word, but he said he’d be there. “I shouldn’t have waited nearly so long to forgive and forget. I’m still fond of him despite everything.” For weeks, all she’d wanted to do was die. But, she said, “now I’d love to be able to participate in life one last time…”

Second portrait:
December 14 2003
Heiner’s friends clearly didn’t want him to be sad and were trying to take his mind off things. They watched football with him just like they used to do: they brought in beers, cigarettes, had a bit of a party in the room. “Some of them even say ‘get well soon’ as they’re leaving; ‘hope you’re soon back on track, mate!’” says Heiner, wryly. “But no one asks me how I feel. Don’t they get it? I’m going to die!”

– Find more @ Gaurdian.co.uk