A Fear of Flying

Why do you constantly talk about death in your blog entries? Is it an obsession or a fear?

That was from a reader’s email which took a while for me to reply to.

Well, I know that the journey of life will all lead toward that destination; it is the journey to the destination that troubles me.

Since we do not know how long before we are faced with our final curtain call, I often wonder if I will be able to do as much with my life before I go. How long do I have – can I take the scenic route or should I move to the freeway? I always say that while I can, I would like to see great new places, meet interesting people, do things I have never done before. I’d certainly like to live long enough to make my parents proud after all the trouble I had given them while I was growing up!

I do not want to be that person who grew old wondering what they had done with their life other than be angry about everything or fret about a life they don’t enjoy. I don’t sit still and wish things would happen – I want to make things happen. And yet sometimes I feel like I am still missing out on so much.

If I can will it, I would certainly wish some criteria be met before I go:

  1. That I outlive my parents. When I was very young, my mom made me a promise I will not forget. It was probably while I was being reprimanded for some stupid behavior, she said that “The most unbearable thing for a parent is to bury a child. No parent can live through that kind of pain emotionally unscathed.” I made her a promise that I would try. I have so far lived to my end of the bargain.
  2. That I would live to see my daughter would be happily settled in life. Not necessarily married but settled – finding her niche in the world as I think I have. But I will let her be the judge of what she will choose in life and knowing her, I am sure she’d make better choices in life than her mother who always wore her heart on her sleeve.
  3. That I would NOT die of a lingering illness. I have little tolerance for pain and even smaller patience to endure its accompanying travesty and drama.
  4. and finally, if it isn’t asking too much, that it would at a time when I can say I have done everything I wanted to do and am ready to go.

Ok, so I fear death and its uncertainty. Why? I don’t know what it is about and when it will strike. I fear death because I do not know what is out there. Will there be pearly gates to greet us after we heave our last breath? A beam of light to take us to the beyond and then live an after life being serenaded by cherubs with harps? I certainly hope so otherwise all the efforts to be a good person seem pointless. I need my reward for not shooting down my teacher in high school when I wanted to. I want my reward for restraining myself from telling a constantly angry and complaining friend to “GET A LIFE!” I want my reward for just doing what the nuns in convent school insisted was good behavior even when I thought it shouldn’t apply in real life because not everyone tries as much to conform to such standards of morality. Ah, wait… gee, I did not listen to the nuns. BUT I DO NOT WANT TO BE PUNISHED FOR THAT TINY ERROR IN JUDGEMENT!...even if I still err in judgment on that part now and then.

I think part of my obsession about death in my entries is not about the dark, sad and morbid thoughts. It is more about humoring myself and assuring myself that it is OK to go, when it is time to go. I just hope God listens and let me enjoy some more before he switches off the lights because this is one great party of a life he has certainly given me!

The thing about death and dying is that it is pretty much about flying. Until you can jump off the edge of a building and flap your arms and float on air, you don't know what flying is about. And unfortunately, no one who has tried the jump ever came out with a book telling about the experience either.

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