Grieving Yourself

Grieving for yourself and your death - is that normal?

I've kicked around plans and ideas for my service, etc. for awhile.  I made a list of songs, etc.  I've got a will, an advance directive and hopefully, some plan for the disposal of my body (I hope to go to the Body Farm in Knoxville!)

There are times when I'm sad about other things and I think about what happens after I leave.  My children are 27 and 29.  Will they be ok?  Have I done enough for them?  Well, I don't like my answers to myself and that causes me great despair.

But I grieve, for their loss but mostly for mine.  I won't see them become 40 years old, maybe not even see Lynn turn 30.  I grieve because I won't see my grandchildren become adults.  The oldest one just turned four - who am I kidding?

If history repeats itself, I've got somewhere between 9 and 15 months left.  My dad died at 58 - so did his dad.  I will be 58 on June 1 - so I'm fully expecting to go next winter when my semi-yearly battle with MRSA comes to call. 

But I'm going to refuse to go!  I've built so much strength the last few months - I refuse to think there is so little time left.

And, when I do let that reality creep into my mind, I grieve.  For a life that I've loved, even in  it's harshest moments, to the babies I will leave behind, because they will all always be babies to me.