I Was Born To Die

It is said our species are the only ones who know, with some rational logic, that we will die…someday. It is a morbid subject, but when you start getting old, mortality becomes a more constant thought.

When you are young, you are invincible. The thought never crosses your mind. Life insurance is just a family savings account and yearly checkups are normally missed. Life is too busy for that stuff.

But when the reports of births are your grandchildren, the topics of conversations start with health problems, and you attend more funerals than weddings, mortality creeps into your thoughts. Those little bumps and bruises that used to be just wiped off and forgotten have much more impact as I just found out taking out the trash.

For those of us who are good planners, we reserve a family plot, write a will, and inform your family members of your wishes, even though no one wants to talk about it. For those who don’t plan, a disease or an injury can catch you off guard.

When we are born, there is no certainty that we will grow to be tall or short, if we will marry, what school we will attend or how we will attain shelter, food, and entertainment. When we are born there is but one certainty. We will die.

Sometimes it comes quickly, sometimes it is accidental, sometimes it is lingering, but however it comes, we will all die. I’m not saying this as a gloom and doom grim reaper, but as I move into the official “old age”, I have to prepare for this inevitable event. A simple stumble like today could have been much worse. The only obituary would have been the stacked up junk mail and the arrival of the flies.

So as Medicare takes over, I will start to review assisted living facilities. I need to get some idea of requirements and cost. If I can’t make it, then I have to be resigned to live in this house until the end. As much as you cannot plan your life, you can arrange for some of it. Like saving up for that new car or house, I want to plan for what will come while I still can.