The above is an epitaph on a Roman mausoleum, from a young woman about her older yet kind husband. I saw it on one of the Great Courses about the Roman Empire and had to save it.
I’ve become less frightened of death this last year and a half, even before the heart attack. When Inigo the Nanday Nanner King died, life changed completely and irrevocably. Twenty-one years is a long time to have a soul bird. Grief still hits me out of nowhere at times, but now I take comfort in sensing that whether by trick of dying synapses or a true departure of my life force and energy to another plane or merging with the cosmos, the last thing I will see as the final breath leaves my body will be my little feathered buddy coming down to get me, maybe with his brudduh Jimmy the Green Cheek behind him. A friend of mine once posted a picture of her soul cat with the caption, “I miss you, but every day brings me closer to you.” That’s kind of how I feel about it.
Back when my mother worked at one of the public utilities, someone drove up in a hearse to drop off his payment. She said the people in her office reacted to it differently depending on their age. The young laughed and said it was wild or funny that the guy drove up in it, and they ran out to see it. The folks nearing retirement looked out the window and critiqued the hearse itself, stating whether they wanted one like it or one a different color or model. The middle-aged people didn’t even want to look at it. I think I skipped the middle-aged “nope” kind of denial and went right to “the little practicalities” stage now that I know for sure that I got the Bad Gene.
In the meantime, I live. That’s what all who went before me would want.
Today’s candy is Now and Later. Makes sense for this entry. And they’re accidentally vegan. The banana ones were my favorite.
zenzalei 