Don't know how "dark" this one's going to be. I've been thinking alot about mortality over the past few days. Not to the point to really make things gloomy, but making me think about the randomness of it all. Cases in point:
- A certain blogger by the name of Farmboy Larry died a week or so ago. Not someone that I personally read, but I'd seen his comments around and quite a few people did read him regularly. He found out last month that he had cancer, and then unexpectedly dies of a heart attack at the age of 45.
- Another blogger mourns the loss of a blogger friend who was murdered a couple of weeks ago.
- Another blogger is in the midst of her own drama. She has a terminal disease. Doctors tell her she's got until August. This wife/mother isn't dwelling on it in her blog. But my heart cries at the thought.
- My closest, bestest friend in the world is dealing with the impending passing of her mother, who has numerous health problems, the most serious of which is cancer.
- I've read of three different bloggers who have had to have their pets put to sleep (shut up--they're as much a part of the family as your snot-nosed little brother!)
I had a discussion with Rachel last week about this. Who would inform you, the bloggerfriends, of my unexpected demise? Undoubtedly, she would do it, assuming she knew. So would Moose, again, assuming that she knew. But there's the rub. Who would tell them? I know whom my family would contact, and Rachel and Moose would be on the list. But I don't think the family would know how to contact them. Or how important it would be to contact them. My closest friends are strangers to them. My online friends are a mystery to them. All of a sudden, the concept of a will makes a whole lot more sense to me!
Rachel and I came to an agreement about what needs to be done first when we hear that the other has met their untimely death. Before our mothers get involved. She has to come get my computer and destroy it. Or at least rip out the hard drive and toss it into a large basket of powerful magnets. I, on the other hand, have to try to find her secret "personal recreation" stash. Not sure where that is, exactly, but it'll give me an excuse to feel around in her underwear drawer....
EDIT: Just a note--I'm not sad/depressed/blue/in a funk. This is just an observation.
EDIT II: And so it continues... Condolences to the others I've learned of since the post was originally written.