Dying

I’ve been thinking about death quite a bit lately. I’m not entirely sure why. Perhaps it’s because I have a few more aches and pains now and I’m not quite as fast or strong as I once was so I think that this is pretty much as good as it’s ever going to be from now on. I’m on the way down, not on the way up, at least in physical terms.

Going back to the original point, I woke up this morning with a flash of insight, perhaps not for anyone else, but for me anyway. I was lying there about to go back to sleep for a bit and I thought, death must be pretty much like going to sleep and going to sleep is generally a pretty pleasant thing so I suppose it’s not so bad that you don’t wake up afterwards. How would you know anyway? Would it be any different than the hundreds of other times that you’ve gone to sleep?

Of course my mind can never leave things alone so I thought about what it would be like to die sick or in pain. That doesn’t sound quite so pleasant. It might be a relief to finally get a break from the pain that must eat up your consciousness but I doubt it’s very nice getting to that point. I think that if I were so sick that I wanted to die, I would want someone to make it as pleasant as possible for me. I’ve occasionally been so sick that I would have done just about anything to not feel that way anymore. Obviously I got better and, at the time, I knew that I would so I didn’t actually wish for death but imagine if you were that sick and you knew, much like I know that my physical skills are at their peak, that it was never going to get any better.

Dying only happens once and it seems a shame to waste it with pain and sickness. I sure hope that I have some loved one who is willing to slip me a little something to ease the way for me. If not, I hope the laws change so that we can at least demand as much mercy as we give our pets.

Kris Warkentin

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