Fandango poses a truly thought provoking question this week and says
I am not preoccupied with death, but I must admit that as I’ve aged, I think more about it now, as a septuagenarian, than I used to in my younger days. We know that none of us is immortal and that we’re all going to die at some point in the future. That brings me to this week’s provocative question:
Would you want to know before hand the date, time, and circumstances of your death, or would you rather not know when and how it will happen?
I agree about thinking about death more than I did as a younger person. I suppose it’s compounded by having lost both of my parents now, some dear friends, even Maggie, that brings it home that we won’t live forever.
In a way, if we knew when we were going to depart this life, it gives us the chance to get our affairs in order so that there’s no additional upsets or responsibility for those left behind. My FIL knew he was on borrowed time and made sure everything was prepared for MIL, so that all she had to do was fill in the date, sign her name and provide death certificates where necessary.
If I knew how, when and even where, I would avoid it and be doing something else, though I guess the Grim Reaper would come for me regardless. A date’s a date after all, and I have never liked being late or to keep anyone waiting.
But I don’t think I would like to know. It would be like an irreversible countdown and if it didn’t happen exactly as it was supposed to, would everyone be saying typical, she couldn’t even get that right!
When I had my second cancer op in October 2019, I was concerned that I might not come out the other side. I made sure that as I was going under I said how much I loved Hubby and the dog. Daft, but I wanted that to be my last conscious thought.
When I had chest pains and they thought it might be a heart attack, I was frightened, especially as it was the second time for me and Hubby couldn’t go with me to the hospital.
So that’s two potential killers and I’ve had two episodes with both. Hopefully there won’t be a third for either.
I hope I am blessed with going to sleep one way. In case that happens, the last thing I say to Hubby each night is that I love him. He already knows, but I tell him anyway, every day.