Are You There Rich? It's Me, Mortality.

I try not to think about death too much.

I particularly try not to think about my own death. The idea of my own death frightens me. I'm not really afraid of the process of death itself, or any pain that might be associated with my death. I'm just afraid of what will happen after I die, or more accurately, what won't happen.

There was a time when I could comfort myself with the thought of an afterlife, but I think that time has passed. I still consider myself to be religious, and I very much want there to be a God and an afterlife, but I'm also a pessimist. I hope there's a God, and I hope's there a place for me in Heaven some day, but I'd be less than honest if I told you I was counting on it. I've discussed my faith in this space before, so if you've been reading this blog you kinda already know that my faith has been on shaky ground for a while now. I think one of the main reasons I've held on to my faith as long as I have ( and still have lots of HOPE that there is an afterlife ), is that I just can't imagine not existing. The idea of not existing really frightens me, so I spend most of my life just pretending that I'll always be around. However, every once in a while something happens that reminds me that I'm not immortal.

This time I was reminded by my glasses, or rather my need to get stronger glasses. I'm getting more far-sighted each year. I'm writing this blog post without my glasses on, but I don't think I'll be able to use a computer without glasses for much longer. I pretty much do all my newspaper and magazine reading with glasses on these days ( I got new reading glasses a week ago, and they make a HUGE difference ), and I'm probably going to start using glasses to write code at work ( I use a relatively large font at work, but I'm beginning to notice some eye strain. ).

So, my new glasses are great and all ( It's really nice to be able to see stuff without straining my eyes ), but they are also a reminder that there are some parts of the aging process I really can't control.

I think I've been fooling myself regarding the aging process for a while now. I've been blessed with a naturally youthful appearance, and I've been luck enough to avoid most of the typical aches and pains of middle age. I've got all my hair, barely any wrinkles, and I work out enough that I'm in far better shape than most 18-year-olds ( Yes, I have balky knees, but my knees have been giving me trouble since I've been 16. Thus, while my occasional knee problems are annoying, they don't really make me feel old ). However, there's really nothing I can do about they fact that my eyeballs are elongating. There's nothing I can do about the fact that whatever tissues were holding my eyes in their original shape are now slowly breaking down. Whether I like it or not, and whether I choose to accept it or not, my body is aging. I've definitely aging, and aging only leads to one thing. The Reaper may be pretty far down the road, but he's definitely coming for me.

OK, I'm not even going to try and gracefully segue from the topic above to a new topic. I'm just going to stop. If I keep writing about *that* topic, I'm going to drive myself nuts. I'll just finish by saying that I love life, and I love my life.

Carpe diem, folks. Carpe diem.

Rich