I have been thinking about death a lot recently, and in particular, my death. It seems that you’re not supposed to talk about your future demise. It makes people uncomfortable. We appear to be in a conspiracy to pretend that we will live forever, even in the face of all the evidence to the contrary. 

Life is precious. It is an emergent phenomenon, the result of so many complex factors, most of which are random. I like to think one’s life is like a wave on the sea. We are all waves on the sea of life. Eventually, every wave will end, but not the water that made it. That will continue. As you can see, I can get pretty philosophical at times.

Death is not dying.

Perhaps that is not the best way to describe the subject of my thoughts. It is not so much about death but more about dying. We will all die. While we are alive, we can imagine being dead. But that ends with our death.

We leave memories of us that others have, actions we took, and, in some cases, our DNA in the form of our dependents. I wrote a book, The Flight of a Wild Duck, to ensure that aspects of my life would endure a bit longer.

On the way to death, we will experience dying. Some might argue that from the point we are born, we are dying, and in a sense, that is true. But most of life is like climbing up the ladder on a slide. I am discussing the ride down the chute, going ever faster to the end. Unfortunately, you don’t get another turn at the slide.

Here I am at 78. I am still healthy and can do everything I have done in the past. But how much longer can that last? How can I look at the older people who are my friends, many from my youth, and think I am not old too? The mirror has become a Time Machine as the child still within me gazes at the old man he has become. 

Life span=health span+sick span

Much is being written about longevity. I have posted a few blog posts on this topic myself. We have a health span, which is the period in which we are healthy, and we have a sick span, when we are unhealthy and even infirm. This process can happen slowly or sometimes quickly. But even if you feel healthy, the seeds of your demise are ready to take root and grow. At the same time, new ways of treating diseases are being developed. But as of now, all we are doing is delaying the eventual.  

I can accept that my life is nearing its end. But I can not easily accept becoming an elderly sick person who must be cared for. Or even worse, someone who has lost significant cognitive abilities. I hope that if that happens, someone is wise enough to “pull the plug.”

We can do many things to increase the number of healthy years. Diet, sleep, exercise, and stress management will extend the number of healthy years and, perhaps for some, will increase their life span. Regular medical checkups (especially those that do a deep dive) can find diseases early and at a stage where they can be treated. For instance, I did a blood test to screen for multiple cancers, Galleri.

Just ten years to live

I have often asked myself to imagine that I only had ten years to live. I started thinking this way when I was diagnosed with prostate cancer almost 30 years ago. Ten years is enough to do something, even learn another language, but not so long that you feel you can waste time. But now, those ten years are maybe the last ten years and certainly the last ten years feeling and looking as I do. So the question: what I want to do with these next ten years of life has taken on an intensity. I know that I don’t want to spend those then years just asking the question. But strangely, I don’t have an answer to the question.  

I have had a rich and satisfying life, but planning for the future has been a big part. Now what do I prepare for? I am supposed to live in the moment, but I am not very good at that unless I have sun and warm seas. So I will probably spend more time on the beach with the greatest blessing of my life, my wife, Deborah.