I went to see a doctor for my hip pain, which turned out to be what I had suspected–arthritis and sciatica–only to discover that I also have super high blood pressure, so high that the doctor said I was at risk for an imminent stroke or death. I laughed, which irritated her because she thought I wasn’t taking it seriously, but I was really just in shock. I had walked into the doctor’s office with no pre-existing conditions and was going to walk out with a laundry list of them, making me fervently hope that Obamacare will NOT be repealed!
I always knew that I would die one day. My favorite quote from Shakespeare’s play Measure for Measure is “Be absolute for death; either death or life shall thereby be the sweeter.” I had embraced that philosophy, or so I thought, until Wednesday. On Wednesday, I discovered that while I had intellectually accepted the idea that I would die, I had not psychologically accepted the idea that I would die. Death had been an abstraction; now it was a real possibility, and I was a little bit frightened and a little bit sad.
I cannot imagine the world without me in it, and I surmise it is the same for most of you readers. We blithely go through our days, planning for tomorrow and for ten years from now. We rarely think about our mortality, although the only thing that is certain in our lives is that we will die one day. Then, out of the blue, a doctor says that you have this or that condition which could result in your death sooner rather than later if you don’t take care of it, and suddenly you are faced with intimations of your mortality. In an instant, your world changes, and you realize that, yes, indeed, one day you really will die, and that while some people will miss you, most of the seven billion people living won’t bat an eye; they won’t even know you are gone because they never knew you existed. How humbling!
The party that is life will go on without you, and even your saddest mourners will laugh again and go back to the party. That is the cycle of life that each of us must traverse. And I don’t like it one bit. I don’t want to leave the party. I don’t want my children or friends to leave the party. But, leave the party each of us must eventually do.
However, I don’t intend to leave the party any time soon. I will conquer my high blood pressure and whatever else my body decides to give me, and I will fill my dance card, embracing and enjoying every dance that life allows me until the fanfare sounds for me to leave this party, this world, and head to the next one, whatever and wherever that may be.
Take care,
Kate
I had to chuckle because misery loves company! I've been in a funk for days now. I call all these types of things "the mosquitos" of life. It's like one more thing and you're going to pull the trigger. What I hate and this seems to apply to m
Oh my gosh! I felt your inner pain ... and I apologize for the fact that when I got to the part about setting your hair on fire, I laughed. I'm so glad you weren't hurt, and hair grows back. Perhaps a new hair-do would not only rectify the situation 
There is no such thing as a legal separation in my state..The only way I can get husband out of the house is to force him out..He refuses to leave..I would have to file for divorce and get temporary orders including a restraining order..
I feel so
Kate
Nicely put. This isn’t a topic anyone wants to think about, but sooner or later we are all forced to do so. Certain events forced me to face that fact in 2009. I was 65; it was upsetting, to say the least. Over the long haul, though, I do feel it has caused me to be a bit better about appreciating the here and now and changing some priorities. Kind of a course correction.
Thanks for reminding me about what’s really important.
Puts the phrase “clean out the basement” into an actual time frame. The physical stuff is sort of like waiting for another raindrop.. it will come, when? It takes 65 or so for the realization to hit …. definitely more plans than time at that point. Still … a … so what?? Read Robert Schwarz’ book “Your Soul’s Plan” Interesting and I read about it here.
thricedivorced
Thanks for the info about the Robert Schwarz book. I just finished a book highly recommended on this site, The Glass Castle, and was not disappointed. I can always count on this site for good recommendations. Will look into Your Soul’s Plan.
What a relief to finally have this out in the open,. It’s hard to talk about it when everyone around you is younger and they just feel sorry for you. I’m not ready to go either and I refuse to go out quietly when I do. I can’t imagine not being here and it makes me return again and again to the question of what it’s all about and why we’re here in the first place? I will never believe that we’re here, we live, and then we go, and that’s it. I’ve had a couple of health scares since turning 60, 3 years ago, and the last one pushed me from being scared to taking on a healthy, less stressed-out life as a personal challenge. 60 may not be the new 40, but 63 isn’t the end of living either. I’m making my 60′s the Me Decade.
How about “making my 60′s the Me Decade” for a 6 word story. That is a new topic and may be of interest.
think, as per Soul’s Journey” we are not done, we are simply without a body and still connected to those we love. We may come back as their cousin, uncle sister, father…. Schwaz says we are in a “Soul Group” and the object of the game is to review and renew decisions, moving ever closer to being love incarnate. There now if I just got my … down the stairs and purged the basement my whole “Soul Group’ would cheer.
Although I wasn’t ill, my own mortality hit me in my early 50s. I was amazed to realize I had more years behind me than in front of me and began asking my friends if they’d had this epiphany. Most had. I was so intrigued that I researched this topic and wrote a book about it. My findings were that most of the women I interviewed are happy and optimistic at this point in their lives.
Thanks for articulating what’s in the minds of many of us. Intellectually, yes I understand and accept death. But it hasn’t been until recently that I have come to understand and accept it emotionally. I have a pretty solid spiritual belief in an afterlife because of my study of divers religions. So I’m doing lots of remembering and journaling and stripping away none essential layers of my life and feeling freer and lighter and more trusting in this grand scheme. It will be alright, and if it’s not then I’ve still lived with honor. That’s the best I can do.
“…then I’ve still lived with honor. That’s the best I can do.” I love that. What else can anyone ask of this life? I think I’ll hang that over my desk. Many thanks.
Great discussion topic. Realizing that someday we will pass from this earth can be a gradual realization especially if we desire change in our lives, or a sudden slap in the face, like the medical condition scare.
My sister died at age 46; she was 2 yrs. older, and in poor health. It crushed me since it was a sudden heart attack, and she was gone in just hours. For two yrs. I felt like I had to surpass the age of 46, like i could go too. Strange.
Gradually, though I realized that my sister would want me to go on and enjoy life. I had some changes to make, big ones, but her passing gave me incentive to push on, to conquer, and darn it, enjoy life.
It also made me wake up to the medical issues in our family tree, and to start learning how to be proactive, and start paying attention.