Let me make this clear, I do not want to end up unable to care for myself. Who does? Given the opportunity I would much rather die in my sleep, in my own house, after a full and fruitful life.
I would like to profess that I am not afraid to die. I have given it my all, done my best, and blah, blah, blah. I would like to say that, but it would be untrue. I want enlightenment first. I want to know why my time on this earth was justified. I want to know what I was meant to do, and did I achieve this goal.
The answer is simple, I will just stay as healthy as I can, until I know what I need to know. Then I will be one of those old ladies, who are "ready to go".
There was a time, a few years ago, I thought I had it all figured out. I was fighting cancer, run away kids, and other assorted major life problems. I was ready to quit. I thought I couldn't handle the pain of it. I thought I was ready to go. My body was tired, my mind foggy, I didn't care what happened anymore. I just dragged myself through the days, weeks, months. I just kept on waking up, and doing what was expected of me. What I expected of me that is.
I look back on that time and I am grateful for it. I was enlightened by it. I know what I am capable of.
I also think I became more compassionate. I am empathetic in a way I never used to be. I take in emotions that are not mine to feel, and by looking from another view, I learn. Is this part of my journey?
I want to live. I love my life.