Thanatos

I think about death from time to time. That is, my death. Not the actual act of dying per se, but more of the ways I would die.

I would imagine scenarios such as my being involved in a fatal car accident. Abrupt. Final. No goodbyes. What would it be like for the people I left behind? What if I could be present as a spirit at my funeral? Who would I see there? Who would cry, and who wouldn't? Whose lives would be affected more than others by my sudden departure?

But mostly I would imagine myself being stricken with a disease. It would usually be some form of cancer; it seems to be the stereotypical "major disease with no cure". In the scenario, I walk into the doctor's office, and he gives me the bad news. For some reason I take it in stride and, after insisting on a straight answer, ask the doctor matter-of-factly whether I'm going to die. Once he confirms it, I simply ask how long I have.

Then begins the process of my long goodbye. Should I tell everybody about my condition? Or should I keep it myself to ensure that I don't get any pity, since it's the last thing I want or need? I wonder about the last things I will do before my time runs out. Perhaps stop by England to visit some of my close friends there. Then come back home and spend the remaining time with my friends and family.

As my time runs out, I spend more time with my godson, talking with him and sharing my joys and tears, my hopes and fears for him, and teaching him all that I can and have left to teach. I tell him that I will sorely miss seeing him grow up and settle down with a woman that God brings into his life, miss seeing him have children of his own who he will adore as much as I do him. I tell him that I love him more than he will ever understand, and I give him the silver ring on my finger which has "Dad" engraved on it. I remind him of the other ring I gave him years before, the one with "PS 27-4" engraved on it, and tell him to keep that verse close to his heart, and to keep Jesus even closer. Then, I will reassure him that this not goodbye forever. It's only goodbye for now.

And who knows? Maybe, just maybe, I finally get the courage to come out to the people I love? The finality of death seems to supply one with courage, and perhaps this is the time I open up? Since I am to leave this world, what more have I to fear?

Thus far, I have not been in any fatal car accidents or been diagnosed with cancer. But on Saturday, at ten minutes before midnight, I found a small, hard, peanut-sized lump near my collarbone. So, I've been thinking about death.

And I don't seem to be afraid to die.