Random Thoughts About Death

I know, I know, nobody likes to talk about the inevitable, but it’s been on my mind quite a bit lately, and this is my blog, so don’t read it if the topic bothers you.  Morbid? I guarantee anyone over the age of sixty-five has had similar conversations with themselves.

And relax, if you tensed up, I am not dying, not that I know of, keeping in mind that I am already at the average age of death for males in the U.S., and keeping in mind, too, that we are all dying from the moment we escape through the birth canal and see the face of love for the first time.

The following are philosophical thoughts, for lack of a better classification, just randomness which has invaded my consciousness of late.

Randomness #1

I am constantly amazed by the number of people who fear death, and I’m especially talking about those who claim to believe in an afterlife of some sort.

What, exactly, are you afraid of?  There are only two possible outcomes once we die. One, we go to another realm of existence which, quite frankly, would be mind-blowing, beyond any trip on Ecstasy anyone could imagine.

Or two, there is nothingness, and in no way does nothingness sound like something to fear.

And yet believers of the highest order lay on the bed of no return, wheezing their last breaths, fearing that which comes next, even though most of them have leaned on faith all of their lives.

Perplexing!

Randomness #2

It is hard for me to wrap my brain around the fact that I will be dead one of these days. There is no cheating the Man with the Scythe. He is coming, your name, my name, has been on his list for quite some time, and it’s not likely that he will forget, and yet I can’t imagine THIS life gig not happening ad infinitum.

Despite the fact that I am seventy-six, it just seems logical that I will rise and shine tomorrow, and the next day, and the next, because that’s what has always happened. Toss in the fact that I am ridiculously healthy, further supporting my fantasy of eternal life on Earth, and you have a recipe for some serious delusion.

Seriously? One of these days my body will not respond to my commands? One of these days it will be difficult to draw a breath, something I have done, without effort or thought, I might add, for three-quarters of a century?

Nah, not me. What would that be like? What would my thoughts be when the reality of it all hits me like a runaway freight train? Disbelief? Anger? Hopefully, not fear, because I do not want to be a hypocrite.

My best buddy, Frank, died five years ago, and I visited him down in Oregon three months before he died, and we had some great conversations about this matter of death. He knew he only had a few months to live and yet he was relaxed, he was accepting, he was at peace and yes, he was damned curious what came next for him. There was no fear in him and, true to his beliefs, of the natural order of the universe, and beliefs of everlasting energy, he died with a calmness I have never witnessed.

“It’s my turn, Bill. It’s been one hell of a ride. I love you.”

Randomness #3

Despite the fact that none of us have a clue when our time has arrived, we all act like we have unlimited time left, like we will defy the odds and live forever, always with an endless supply of mulligans, always with a chance to say the words so important to loved ones, to live out dreams unfulfilled, to achieve the lofty goals we once promised with the bravado of youth.

We chase our tails in hopes that we will achieve . . . fame, fortune, security . . . and we forget to ACTUALLY LIVE our lives balls out, back to the wall, clutch in and fifth gear the rest of the way.

If not now, when?

What exactly are we waiting for?

And that seems like the best place to end this discussion. What are you . . . what am I . . . waiting for? Get out there, make it happen, and enjoy the hell out of it.