Dying
At some point in old age you are forced to accept that essentially you are just hanging around waiting to die or to get sick. As someone replied when asked if he had a major health problems, “not yet”. The implication was that it was only a matter of time.
More on dying
We accept that we are all going to die sooner or later. Probably later is better but as far as I am concerned what really matters is how we die not when. I want to go quickly, in my sleep, or in a few weeks so I can say some good byes. But no tubes, please.
And still more
It’s not so much when you die, but how you die. It’s not so much what you did, but if or how your acts will be remembered.
Regrets
I doubt if I have very much longer to live and I don’t want to appear morbid when I say so. I’m reasonably prepared but certainly will have some regrets. Now that my wife has died, the greatest will be not seeing the grandchildren grow up, or knowing whether their inheritance will change the lives of our children. But, strangely perhaps, I will also regret the many books left unread and the music I want to hear again.
Very good read, I agree wholeheartedly.
Yes. And please don’t ship my body around. If I die in Dominica, leave me here. If I die in Canada, leave me there. My spirit will be free to go where it wants, to the tune of Norman Greenbaum’s “Spirit in the Sky”
And it is expensive… for someone. My spirit (if I have one) will flit around to the tune of the Till the End of Time, from the Tunnel TV series. It is enchanting. Do watch or listen. btw, I have a 10 point Z lurking around.
Venez dans mes bras
Closer to me, dear
Donnez-vous à moi
Set aside all fear
Restons enlacés, pour l’éternité
Yes, you shall be mine,
’til the end of time.
— “The End of Time,” Charlotte Gainsbourg, sung to the tune of A Maiden’s Prayer