So here I am again in lew of proper work. At least I’m still fulfilling my resolution.
Today I’m going to talk about death and ask why I am so crushingly, brain gnawingly terrified of it. There’s not much that scares me these days. I don’t care about embarrasment and I’ve largely made my peace with failure. Pain is just a fact of life and physical injury comes and goes.
I have fears for my children, as does any parent but they’re fears that I need and I understand and I can deal with. They are normal fears.
Death on the other hand scares me so much I can’t even think about how much it scares me.
I try to have faith in an afterlife but that doesn’t really help. Partly because I am one of nature’s sceptics and partly because while it’s easy to believe that my Father went on somewhere and is still around somehow I find it hard to believe that I’ll be that lucky.
I try to do that mental magic trick of thinking of my death as being an event that doesn’t concern me since, by definition it is not an event in my life. When it gets here I wont be here any more. It doesn’t help.
So I’m stuck with a terrible phobia of an event which will certainly happen to me sooner or later and which is a natural part of life. I have a duty to my children to face my fate bravely. That’s my job as a Mother. I just wish I knew how.