Am I afraid...

Of dying? A friend asked in the wee hours.

Well, as a serial stroke survivor, and other instances over the years, I've faced the 'd' word. I've also had the privilege of holding the hands of, praying with, cuddling and keeping vigil with those who've faced that reality over the years, and being with them when they died. So death and I are no strangers.

My dad died at 60, my little brother at 40. Both had always said they didn't believe in any kind of afterlife. I dunno. I'm not a religious person. All I know is death is something we all have to face one day. Not like we have a choice, is it?

If some magic fairy granted me three wishes, it would be that, at that time, I will be lucid, reasonably mobile, and a little warning would be nice so I can analyse it. It'd be useless information - but hey, I'd like to go as I've lived.

But that's the crux. I'd like to think I've lived a life worth celebrating. All the modern paraphernalia is a party for the living, My finances are good, my affairs are in order, and there's an Apple tree out there to be plonked on top. I want to be a tree. Anything else is beyond my control and that's how it should be. Meanwhile, I'll just get on with life :)

So, No. I'm not afraid.