Fear of Death

I ride a motorcycle; a dangerous but exhilarating activity. Every time I  put on my helmet, I acknowledge that it may be my last. It is often said about motorcycles “There are two types of motorcycles: one that has never been dropped and one that will be dropped.” I am still to drop my bike but I am aware that it may happen someday and while I do hope that I live to stand up on my two feet, I recognize the danger therein and face it none the less because I love to ride. I believe that the best way to die is to die happy which is why before taking up riding motorcycles, flying was my favourite pastime. I know that were my plane to ever crash, I would face it calmly. Once on a trip to Mexico, we experienced very disruptive turbulence and my aunt woke me up in a panic asking how I could sleep through the disturbance. Simply put, I was not afraid to die. FYI, I am terrified to die by drowning. Or burning.

Anyway I digress. I have always wondered where my sense of the morbid may stem from and I am going to have to blame my father. He was the one who while at the dinner table would steer the conversation towards a discussion of what would you do if your parents died? At first I was offended that he would find that appropriate dinner conversation but he would assure us that their dying was indeed a reality and being prepared would serve us well. Pretty soon, these discussions became so common place we would even talk about which parent we would rather live with if the other passed away.

If I can be honest with myself which I am most of the time, as I have gotten older, I have begun to dread my parents passing more and more. I don’t fear death for myself as much as I do for them. I figure either way I will becoming back anyway, so why fear?

So to close this trifecta of parental appreciation, what is the moral of this story? To say that one should appreciate one’s parents. If anything were to happen to my parents, it would take me at least 24 hours to get there and that is if I began the journey immediately. One of the promises I made to myself as entered adulthood which is a promise I have kept to this day, is to live life without regrets. I refuse to feel regret therefore, I refuse to hold anything against my parents because by the time I resolve to make peace with them, it may be too late.

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