Two weeks from now will be this blog's third anniversary. Somehow, I don't think I actually expected I would still be doing this three years later, but blogging has been a good outlet for me to vent the occasional frustration, share the occasional musing or new cool thing, to bounce ideas off myself and others. Blah ditty-blah blah blah.
I started out with a sense of foreboding, that something big was looming in the future and that my world as I knew it would be coming to an end. Crazy nutcase connotations aside, hasn't it?
My life upheavals thus far in the life of this blog have included cancer; familial upheaval; a name change; re-starting school; a new baby; a move; permanent body modifications; Bryan's abuse of Lash, his capture, his trial; marital issues and so on. It's been a long three years, a very long three years and I thank everyone who's been there with me for the ride thus far.
So, last night I'm watching the latest Netflix arrival--the Family Stone (don't start, I have a Claire Danes addiction). While a little entertaining, it was extremely predictable from the outset. Alas. Watching it reminded me (as did a death in a peer's family recently) that I too, of course, am going to die someday. The odds are against me as far as the future goes--the threat of cancer remission will loom until it either comes back or something else kills me, and it depresses me to think that someday my kids will be living their lives without me there to enjoy watching them live them.
It's made my mood a bit maudlin, and I'm not the best conversationalist today.
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2 comments:
Bleah. Should NOT have read this tonight.
ICK.
Talk not to me of death right before I'm suppose to celebrate getting NEARER to it.
Am responding also because of this line
"and it depresses me to think that someday my kids will be living their lives without me there to enjoy watching them live them."
I will grant you that since I remember this odds are I was at least a teenager... but she pointed out that to HER there was nothing worse then a parent outliving a kid. I asked for clarification and she made sure that I knew that I was going to be expected AT SOME POINT to deal with her death...
Oh and that's not counting the cycle I "helped" my father break of constantly hearing that he was going to die... and then hearing that he'd been on that kick for over 20 years.
I don't want to outlive them. That would be horrific. I want us all to live forever, or at least to not have the thought that my kids would ever have to know death.
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