Slice 266 of 365
I have less than 100 posts left before I get to my birthday, and the end of my slice journey. That means in 99 days I will be 50 years old. I can’t say that I know how to feel about that. I guess I don’t really think about it all that much.
Death on the other hand, that I’ve been thinking about more in the last month. I’m a big worrier, but not of my health. In that area I’m a big don’t carer. In the hospital, though, I was wondering if I might get life altering (translated: life ending) news before I knew the actual problem.
I say wonder because I wasn’t worried about it. It was a different feeling, but it wasn’t worry. It was kind of like concern, a little anxiety, an overwhelmingness, some fear. That may all sound like worry but it really wasn’t. It was something else that I still can’t pin down.
There was an emptiness to it. Things undone and unresolved I suppose. My dad died at 57, and that isn’t all that far off. Not that I believe I’m going to die when he did (he smoked like a chimney), but it is right there, regardless. It’s odd when you start to get to a point when there is most likely more time behind you than in front of you. My grandfather, his father, lived to 88, and my oma just recently died at over 90. Different generation, though. They had stronger bodies and stronger wills.
Well, for the next 99 days I’ll do my best to concentrate on life. After that, no guarantees!