One does tend to think about death a bit more as age advances, but with a peppy song in your heart, you don’t dwell on it.
I try not to think about it. I have lived much longer than I expected to on that day in 1965 that I had a heart attack. It’s all gravy now, 56 years later. It will come when it comes and I hope only that it will not be too messy.
A few weeks ago my first wife collapsed in a way we knew was terminal. When the kids and I got her to the hospital the nurses rushed in with wires and needles and tubes. She waved them off and said:
“No - I’m ready, let’s just get it over with”
Gives me a new perspective to think about.
I’m sorry to hear that, Crane.
Thanks - it was expected. Her blood disease had advanced to Leukemia.
I no longer fear being dead (an eternal nap sounds refreshing), but I do have some reservations about dying. With my luck, I’ll end up slow-roasting in a Brazen Bull, or some other less-than-ideal death. Fool me once, shame on you…
On the bright side, if space-time is infinite, there’s a good chance a cluster of elementary particles will someday, somewhere, re-configure as an exact replica of my current brain. Then I can wake up on the far side of the universe and continue as I left off—eating nachos and watching Seinfeld re-runs. I just pray my new planet doesn’t have spiders or disco music. With my luck, my new body will be that of a giant spider, and I’ll scare myself every time I look in the mirror.
I understand most accidents occur in and near the home. You should probably move.
Stranger
Today I do not, ask me again five minutes before I die and I am curious what my answer will be.
Oblivion does not sound bad at all.
ETA: Good question!
I did. 1,200 miles or so.
I don’t fear my death but I"m not without fear that it will come sooner than I’m ready for it.
I also fear pain, and disability and having to consider myself a not-very-attractive person, although fortunately I tend to like the way old folks look. I hope I get to be an ancient codger in really good condition so I can enjoy it.
I don’t fear oblivion itself, but that doesn’t mean I am cool with life being just a few score years, much of it spent in decline.
So, for me, it’s not something I’m fearing down the road, but a problem with the road itself.
Oh, and “not fearing oblivion” is also not the same thing as saying I don’t want an afterlife. I don’t want any of the afterlives that humans have conceived of, but a hypothetical “better place”? Sure.
I fear my death, but I probably think about it less than once per day. I am an atheist, so no comforting afterlife for me, no reincarnation, or anything like that. I think I’ll get cremated rather than embalmed to be absolutely sure, and have a good living will.
If you’re thinking about death all the time, you need help. That’s not normal, and it can be debilitating.
The best framing of this question I’ve heard is in terms of where we originally came from. Where did you come from when you were born? You came literally from nothing, from nowhere, from some random genetic encoding in some chemicals. And that is where we all return: to nothingness, nowhere. We may fear it in terms of the loss to our loved ones and to any causes we hold dear, but for ourselves, it is no more than dreamless sleep, and a return to the nothing from whence we came.
It’s not the event, it’s the run-up to it. I remember my sister telling me “Hey, my 60s were great! I had energy, etc. But my 70s so far have been a disaster.” As one who is staring 75 looming before me, I have to agree. It’s not a disaster, but things hurt a lot more, and it seems like something else starts hurting on a weekly basis. And I look around my house and think: Who’s going to have to deal with all this shit after I’m gone?
Meh. Either I am going to be provided an answer to one of the most perplexing questions ever faced by man, or (more likely in my opinion) I won’t be around to care one way or another. So I may fear dying but I don’t fear death.
Philosophically I subscribe to eternalism, so my death results in the end of my book but it doesn’t mean my book ceases to exist. Am I right? Who knows, but it works for me and doesn’t hurt anyone else so I may as well go with it.
Heck, I have no concrete evidence that I’m not immortal.
Home Depot? Oh wait, maybe that’s just CFLs…
Yeah, this. My grandmothers made it to 100 (in her own home and more or less mentally alert) and 99 (in a fairly good assisted living facility, with advanced Alzheimer’s), and I don’t want the last ten years of either of their lives. And I feel like those are the best-case scenarios once you get to be that old – like, at least they had children to look after their interests (I won’t), and died before they ran out of money. I really hope assisted euthanasia becomes a generally accepted thing by the time I get old.
I’m shocked you haven’t had a second attack, living on an only-gravy diet as you do. 
Over the years I’ve heard so many old folks say that they just don’t want to be a burden that it became cliche. But I get it now. I can’t imagine an existence more dreadful than having to depend on loved ones to take care of me in my debility.
mmm
Well, you should be good as long as you didn’t file a change of address with the Post Office.
Stranger