Such have been my thoughts lately.
I once went to a funeral where the pastor’s words made me think along a completely different track with regards to how you live and how you die.
He said that the worth of a person’s life is in how many lives they thouched during their existence on earth.
In the meantime, I went to a few more funerals where the normal ramblings were uttered, and the last one I attended, I was part of the kitchen staff dealing with the catering.
Since my life at the moment is more than upside down, death is beginning to look like the only way out. There seems to be something wrong with my eyes – I just can’t see myself living on the streets, begging for money.
I’m still alive – for the moment.
But I have been wondering how my existence has touched other people’s lives.
Have I made it good for some? Bad? Was knowing me the highlight of their lives, or one of the lows? Do they think of me only in terms of rudeness, or maybe in terms of kindness? Maybe love? Or just tolerance…
How many people will come to my funeral should I die? Would they be sad? Will they make the effort of taking off work to attend the last ceremony regarding me? Or will they just be happy in the knowledge that I don’t exist anymore?
These are all things I will never know. Once I’m dead, everything will cease to matter. Even the fact that the mortuary staff will treat my naked, dead body with less respect than a piece of steak. All the things that matter to me now will mean nothing. nobody will have the same regard as I do for the old stuff in my house. They will care as little about my lovely tins as they do about the weather. And if I think of how long and from how far those tins have come, it saddens me.
To realise that the whole of my existence at the moment is contained in a few pieces of furniture, albeit classics. A heap of tins and a collection of plants…
At the moment I’m completely superfluous. I don’t add any value. Can’t look after myself, need other people to help me.
And how is that different from being old and in pain and wanting release from all that?
Ok, maybe I’m just a tad more morbid than I need to be.
Honestly speaking though, if I don’t find a job soon, I don’t see any way out other than death – easier to die than to face the life I have now. The coward’s way out, I realise, but can you really blame me? To sit here day after day, knowing that you are completely useless, that there’s not a single person out there that wants you for anything more than just the most basic things, that your life has become a drain on other people’s emotions – and you can’t do anything to stop it.
Not a good place to be in.
And I’ve been there for longer than I care to be.
The plans are not in motion yet. I still have to get rid of all the cookies I made.
And maybe I’ll feel differently tomorrow.
Anything’s indeed possible!