In the end, the end.

Often, my brain seems to be working better than ever. But is it the calm before the storm? Alzheimer’s is no respecter of persons. I think of myself…well what do I think of myself….  that is a hard question. For now I need an easier question. A question like how much longer have I to live. That is hard question too. Obviously it isn’t a question I am able to answer. Questions of life & death & the meaning of life become harder, the older we become. It becomes harder to believe that there are things that will happen (good things) at some time in the future. Things we have always hoped would happen but which haven’t as yet come to pass.

When I was young, whenever that was, I thought everything would work out for me by the time I was about 30. 30 seemed like a really old age then. I am 66 in a week or 2 & almost nothing seems to have happened, except old age. Perhaps it has but I haven’t noticed.

You get old & then you die. There is nothing to be done about it. Enjoy your old age? How can you when you have so little time left & so much is left undone. Cancer, Alzheimer’s, heart attack, stroke, MRSA & other superbugs, ebola, AIDS, black death, other diseases, road accidents, other accidents, violence upon the person, it can happen at any time; you can fall down the stairs & die. Or it could be just old age itself; the end of the natural cycle. Then what? Life after death; I doubt it. But who knows? No-one has come back to tell the tale or perhaps they have. Maybe we are surrounded by them but they are invisible.

We bury people as though they are around. Maybe they are. At times we believe much that isn’t true. Or at least we don’t know. We don’t believe them to be true at other times but at funerals we seem to suspend belief. My father was buried in Friday the 13th, he was the least superstitious person ever. If somehow he was there in some spirit form watching the event, invisible to us mere mortals, he would have been hugely amused.  Spiritualists talk to the dead. The dead come back to them & through them leave messages for relatives eager for a sign of some sort. The messages rarely make any sense but that is not important at all. It confirms us in our desperate hope that death isn’t really death & that there is something afterwards. Maybe there is.

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