Mortality

It’s not that I’ve been thinking about death, even though, last year, I had another brush with death — waving at Him on the sidelines of my own personal battlefield. But Death has a way of following us around once we reach (a) a certain age or (b) have that close encounter with Him. He’s just there over our left shoulder, lurking.

For now, He’s mildly passive but, we all know, who know, that this state of being can change, and change in a fraction of a second. A mere heartbeat, and it can all be over. Death being there to catch us as the light winks out.

What started me thinking about Him, again, is talk of wills and notaries and the Other Half having had a fright of their own: the possible loss of me. And here we are, talking about what we want to happen to what’s left of us when we pass to that other realm, that supposed realm of Darkness. Though I prefer to think of it as the realm of light. But of course, we’ll never know till we arrive which state it will be and then, given no one on the other side has ever let us know, we are, as they say, in the dark till that final moment of seeing the light.

But all jesting aside, the OH has been talking almost nonstop about us getting our affairs organised. Not that I own anything of great value. But needs must, as they say. And so, the OH has set up an appointment with a Notary to start the process which, I understand, will take a couple of visits at least, to get said affairs in order.

The thing is, all this talk of wills has me looking over my shoulder to check out if Death is still hanging around (of course He is) but you know what I mean.

It’s not like any of us get out of this alive to live another day. Death and taxes. Isn’t that the axiom?

Am I rambling? Probably. To be honest, all this talk of notaries and wills has me twitchy. I told myself after surgery to live in the moment, the here and now, and not think or worry about the future and things beyond my limited control. But here we are. Sometimes we have to plan for a future we don’t particularly want to think about, our own demise.

All joking aside, sometimes we have no choice but to step outside of the here and now, and make decisions for our future. So if ever there were a moment of Memento Mori, it’s the writing of a will. And that time to have that last say in the land of the living of what happens to you when Death finally does come.

I would like my last will and testament will simply read: Bury me under a sapling oak.

𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧