I Want to Go Out With a Bang, Not a Whisper

A few days ago my Aunt M. died. A few months before that, her husband, my Uncle A. died.

You know those relatives that come for a visit and they are so weird it hurts to be around them? * These weren’t those guys*.

Both of them were PhD’s and professors. They both had a wicked sense of humor and the ability not to sweat the small stuff. They were bigger than life and twice as loud. Their children, my cousins, are the high water mark for our gene pool. Out of 8 they have a doctor, lawyer, nurse, several engineers, and a ballet dancer.

Uncle A. had Alzheimer’s. He slowly forgot his family, and it pissed him off. He had to be cared for in a center because this sweet, beautiful, loving, kind, generous, man became violent and fearful. He slowly withered away, surrounded by loved ones he did not remember.

Aunt M. died from malignant melanoma that metastasized to her brain. The resulting tumor impaired her cognition and memory, so eventually, she too became fearful in a world she did not recognize, withered and died with no memory of her family, her husband, or her life.

Aunt M’s bout with malignant melanoma is the most frightening. She had no associated skin lesion. In my family its not IF your get skin cancer, Its WHEN you get skin cancer. Knowing this, all of us are bonkers about having regular skin checks and biopsies, including Aunt M. We thought that if we were careful and vigilant, it would be okay; at least you can SEE sighns of skin cancer and hit it early.

Not anymore.

Watchin these two intelligent, loving, people slowly fade and die has pissed me off. I DO NOT want to lose my mind and fade away. I want to look the end of my life in the eye, and say, “COME ON, GIVE ME WHAT YA GOT!”

I recommend that you also not whimper.
mmm

I can’t remember which poster on the Dope I got this from, but this is how I wish I could go out:

*Remember this motto to live by: Life should NOT be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in an attractive and well preserved body, but rather one should aim to skid in sideways, chocolate in one hand, glass of Scotch in the other, your body thoroughly used up, totally worn out and screaming “WOO HOO! Man, what a ride!” *

Of course that would scandalize the folks at my funeral!:stuck_out_tongue:

It’s like this for me. I’m not afraid of being dead, I believe that Heaven will be the next stop. BUT, I am afraid of dying, of a long, slow death, like those suffered by the folks in the OP.

surrounded by literalists. I’m sorry for your loss, I really am. But it sounds like they were a blast while still themselves, and that’s what you can hold onto. Take care.