Things I don’t expect to say on my deathbed

Last night I dreamt I was writing a blog post entitled “Things I don’t expect to say on my deathbed,” and since this kind of inspiration is enough to qualify as Scripture in a number of denominations, I decided to go with it.

“I can’t wait to get this over with.” No, I hope I’m never that weary of life. I don’t really fear death (since I won’t be around to experience it), but I intend to put off dying as long as I possibly can. After all, that’s what it means to be alive.

“When I’m gone, I want you all to spend tons of money preserving my body undecayed just in case I ever need it again.” Not hardly. It’s no use to anyone once I’m dead, except maybe medical researchers. Give it to the cadaver classes and then burn it. If my family really wants to spend a bunch of money pretending I’m still here, they can buy a mannequin and dress it in my old clothes.

“Thanks for coming, Your Holiness.”Nuff said.

“See you guys later.” I’ve already been “born again,” and it failed to live up to its reputation. When you die, you go the same place the flame goes when you blow out a candle. No point in rubbing my loved ones’ noses in the harsh reality. “Farewell” does the job.

“I just wish I’d spent more time playing Skyrim.” Hmm, perspective…

“I just wish I’d spent more time watching football.” Dying’s bad enough without dying senile.

“Hey, Jesus! Where the hell have you been all my life?” Yeah, he never showed up for my life, I don’t expect him to show up for my death either. Family, at least, will care enough to be there.

Don’t know why this topic popped up, and maybe it is a bit sombre, but at the same time I think it highlights the value of life. The “now” is important, because someday it’s going to be over. Meaning comes from what we have and what we do right now. When we’re gone, the best comfort we can give our families is the knowledge of what we accomplished when we had the chance. Let’s take steps now to make that a good memory in the (hopefully far distant) future.


  1. says

    I agree with all of the above except the first. I can imagine being in excruciating pain and knowing that I only have a very short time left to live. Under those circumstances I would expect to wish for the end to come sooner. I would probably ask for that extra morphine.

    • 'Tis Himself, OM says

      My father suffered from arthritis in his finger joints. During the last years of his life doing almost anything with his hands was extremely painful. The last time I saw him, about six months before he died, he told me that death would come as a relief.

  2. Dave says

    I think I spent about 200 hours playing Skyrim in the first few months after its release. I was under the spell; it was obviously a very, very stupid waste of precious time.

    The game crashed one final time; the final crash of hundreds over that derainged Skyrim-smacked period. “Again, for f**ks sake. I am done.” I put it away and have not thought about it again until writing this comment. The game is as dangerous as crack in many ways.

  3. Jeremy says

    If Skyrim is the best game that I have played by the time I’m on my deathbed, then I will be sorely disappointed in the creativity of developers. Since I still occasionally have dreams about Starcraft though, I could conceivably be thinking about that.

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