The Dead

Part of my job is "deading" people. For example, I closed the dates on Robin Williams, 1951-2014, to match the current authority form. It make me acutely aware of my own mortality. I was re-reading Elisabeth Kübler-Ross's seminal book on death and dying, and realize I am in the bargaining stage of the process. Denial, Anger, BARGAINING, Depression and Acceptance. I was pleading in therapy just this past week for another ten years, like that isn't too much to ask. Given all my health issues, having had kidney cancer and functioning with only one of the little guys, having had ulcerative colitis for over forty years, all the surgeries, etc. How much can one tiny body take? I was watching TV and an AARP commercial comes on and the woman says "I am sixty and I have a lot of good years left..." BUZZER...not so fast. At sixty, unless you plan to live to 120, your life is over half over. You're at the top of the hill, maybe a little over the rise, on a downward slope. So I bargain. I'll take care of the health issues...someone give me a few years...let me outlive the cats...take my wife, please...Let's face it, life itself is a fatal disease. No one gets out of here alive. You take what you are given and move on to the next phase in life. So much for the afternoon...shot to shit if you ask me.