Ramblings on Mortality
And Other Existential Musings
I’m older than my mother was when she died. My kids are both adults. I spend more time than ever before in mind-numbing circles thinking about my own mortality. It’s not hampering the way I live, but I wonder the toll it’s taking on my mind. How rational is it to think about death when you should be living your life?
Will my kids be ok without me? In some ways, will it be easier for them when I am gone because then they won’t feel any pressure to please me in any way? These are the questions that fill my head now that I turned 50 last March and am on the back nine of my life.
What’s out there for me? Can I see them when I am gone? Coming from a wholly areligious Jewish background, I’ve never really pondered the thought of an afterlife. Or of just dirt in the ground. I’ve buried my parents and my grandparents. But where are they?
Some were cremated, some dropped in the ground whole. I sometimes wonder what would be better for me when I am gone. I hope it’s just being able to watch my kids, and hopefully grandkids in the future, on a large screen television with boxes of neverending chocolate cookies.
If the earth has existed for 4.5 billion years, how relevant can my theoretical thought bubbles on Medium be in the scope of humankind? Am I more than a…
