Libre
been around a little
- Local time
- Today, 11:36
- Joined
- May 3, 2007
- Messages
- 677
Let’s talk turkey here, shall we? I know it’s not a subject we like to dwell on, but I’ve been thinking about it for quite awhile – probably every day for at least a moment, since I was 7 or 8. I’d like to get it out of my system – or at least put it to paper.
We all know that someday we’re going to die. We’ve known it since we were young children, when our pet turtle or goldfish (seemingly evolved just to teach us this lesson) went belly up. If we had caring parents they gently informed us that our little pet had been a living creature and that all living creatures eventually must stop living. They “pass on”. We buried the pet in the backyard, or gave it a “burial at sea” (flussshhhhh). We may have experienced a moment of grief – maybe a bit longer if the pet was a real member of the family like a dog or cat and had been with us for awhile. But we saw that even without our precious companion, our own existence continued much the same as it had been before. Life went on.
As time passed and we matured, we realized that it wasn’t only little creatures that lived in bowls on our dressers that died. Actual people died too. It may have been a grandparent or that of a friend, and then we had to go to a real funeral. Everyone was upset. Adults were crying! From there, it didn’t take any great leap of imagination to realize that someday we, too, would kick off.
More time passed and then it wasn’t just the ancient and elderly that passed on. Then it was our parent’s generation, and then our own contemporaries. Live long enough and you’ll see folks younger than yourself go. What an adjustment we have to make in our concept of the progression of life, to see it happen.
When I was born, the life expectancy of a male in developed countries was roughly the age that I have now attained. That realization was like a bucket of ice water in the face.
Where will I be in 10 years from now, or 20? 10 years ago was just a moment previous – I’m still dealing with issues that arose 10 years ago. I still have socks on the floor that I’ve been meaning to pick up for that long. In 10 years I’ll actually be old. I’m fighting it now and holding my own, but nobody wins this fight. Death is patient. Death doesn’t care. It just is.
I’m not really afraid of death (I don’t think) – it’s the dying that is scary. I hope it doesn’t hurt much. I have a red welt on my neck, a split nail, aches all over, a stent in my LAD coronary artery, and I take 5 or 6 medications. Well, I just hope that whatever may be beyond (if anything) they know how to have a good time. See ya (for now, that is – I’m not checking out just yet).
We all know that someday we’re going to die. We’ve known it since we were young children, when our pet turtle or goldfish (seemingly evolved just to teach us this lesson) went belly up. If we had caring parents they gently informed us that our little pet had been a living creature and that all living creatures eventually must stop living. They “pass on”. We buried the pet in the backyard, or gave it a “burial at sea” (flussshhhhh). We may have experienced a moment of grief – maybe a bit longer if the pet was a real member of the family like a dog or cat and had been with us for awhile. But we saw that even without our precious companion, our own existence continued much the same as it had been before. Life went on.
As time passed and we matured, we realized that it wasn’t only little creatures that lived in bowls on our dressers that died. Actual people died too. It may have been a grandparent or that of a friend, and then we had to go to a real funeral. Everyone was upset. Adults were crying! From there, it didn’t take any great leap of imagination to realize that someday we, too, would kick off.
More time passed and then it wasn’t just the ancient and elderly that passed on. Then it was our parent’s generation, and then our own contemporaries. Live long enough and you’ll see folks younger than yourself go. What an adjustment we have to make in our concept of the progression of life, to see it happen.
When I was born, the life expectancy of a male in developed countries was roughly the age that I have now attained. That realization was like a bucket of ice water in the face.
Where will I be in 10 years from now, or 20? 10 years ago was just a moment previous – I’m still dealing with issues that arose 10 years ago. I still have socks on the floor that I’ve been meaning to pick up for that long. In 10 years I’ll actually be old. I’m fighting it now and holding my own, but nobody wins this fight. Death is patient. Death doesn’t care. It just is.
I’m not really afraid of death (I don’t think) – it’s the dying that is scary. I hope it doesn’t hurt much. I have a red welt on my neck, a split nail, aches all over, a stent in my LAD coronary artery, and I take 5 or 6 medications. Well, I just hope that whatever may be beyond (if anything) they know how to have a good time. See ya (for now, that is – I’m not checking out just yet).
