Krys and I were talking about my blog entry last night and he asked me – why death? At the time, I just shrugged and said, why not? I do think about it a lot, and Krys hates it when I tell him all the stuff he needs to know about feeding Roz and where these or those papers are and filing for guardianship blah blah blah, just in case I get hit by a bus in the morning.
Anyhoo, the thing that started it this time round was when I received a request to complete my “letter of wishes” with my life assurance company. You know, “if you should meet your demise unexpectedly, please enter who shall receive your benefits.”
How bloody depressing.
Of course before Roz was born I just ignored this. Hell, if I drop dead, y’all can fight over whatever scraps I leave behind, chortle, chortle, chortle. I have to think sensibly now of course and the automatic name is Roz. And that’s what started me pondering death again.
I say again because man oh man did I used to have crazy dreams about my death. I once dreamt that I was seated in the passenger seat of a car when it plunged front first into a river, I was desperately trying to open a window while the water rushed in and I remember swallowing water and knowing I was going to die. I woke up struggling to draw breath. Then there was another time where I dreamt I was in the backyard of a house at a party, and some thugs broke in and were gunning down people. I tried to escape by climbing over the wall but as I was pulling myself up, I felt the gun at my back and a man say,
And there was this searing pain, I lost consciousness and woke up. Some really scary stuff. And that’s just the tame dreams!
But the worst thing that has made me really face my mortality?
About a month ago, Krys took Roz out for a walk to give me time to myself. I had a long, hot shower, drank a lovely cup of coffee, curled up on the couch with a bag of M&Ms and decided to watch “Scrubs” there was a really funny bit and I threw my head back and laughed. You know, one of those really hearty ones where you just feel you may pee yourself, and the M & M went down the wrong pipe for a second.
Well, I’ve never coughed and spluttered so much in all my life. Tears were running down my cheeks and everything.
When I eventually calmed down and the room stopped spinning, I was simply mortified. Can you imagine what would have happened had the M&M not shot out of my mouth so easily? Poor Krys would have returned home to find me dead, burst blood vessels in my eyes and gory claw marks on my throat with most of the furniture strewn around the place after my lurching, and utterly pointless stagger about the room.
No more eating and laughing at the same time, especially not when I’m on my own in the house.