I spent the best part of a Sunday afternoon in the company of other women, most of whom I had never met. We were the participants in a four-session workshop on “End of Life” issues.
Now I am not planning to “go out” any time soon. But as the year creep up, that looming specter call The End is becoming more and more real. I’ve given a lot of thought to what is coming and I’ve decided it probably feels like a gigantic roller coaster that goes up and up and up and up. You know the crest of the hill is coming but, as in Space Mountain, you can tell when it will happen. So you clench your teeth and brace yourself for the drop into … what?
Just for the record, I hate roller coasters. So if you like them this analogy probably sounds 180 degrees from fear. And I’m not so sure it’s really fear. It’s just the inevitability of death. There, I said it. Death. Death Death death death death. Of my family, of my friends and of me.
Me. Not here on Earth. Now no matter what your religious or spiritual belief, whether you know there’s an afterlife or whether you think life ends with the death of the body, you are a little curious about the actual process of dying. Right? We don’t know what will happen. And we can’t control it (unless euthanasia becomes legal). It will just happen.
I have a whole lot more to say on this black subject, but heck, it’s a new year. No sense darkening the mood for too long. But I will say that I am privileged to be in the same room with these women. Their curiosity, inquiring minds and plain old courage make me proud to be a female. Our next meeting is in February. I’ll check back with you then.