I know that sounds incredibly cliched and is considered the typical macho American male response on the subject...but it's true.
When I was a kid, my paternal grandfather Clarence, who was well into his 70's at that time, had the greatest answer to the inevitability of death that I've ever heard in my life.
"Well, I figure when I get that sign that I've got about two minutes left, I'll get on the phone and call the mortician and tell 'em, 'Hey Fletcher, I think it's about time for you to come pick me up,'" he said.
My grandfather has since passed on, along with other relatives and friends whom I miss every day, but I know why he wasn't afraid of it. He'd lived his life the way he'd wanted to, serving his country, seeing the world, having a home and raising a family. He'd been married for 40 years and though he never said so, I know that in his heart he knew my grandmother was waiting for him in the next life.
With all that to look back on, I'd like to believe that most people who'd have such a life wouldn't be afraid of it coming to an end either.
Unfortunately, I don't see things through the same prism for myself.
I'm not afraid to die and at times, I welcomed the possibility of it happening because I could justify it as the end of a life that I'm too tired of trying to salvage. With all the things I've gone through, I'd be lying if there wasn't at least one time that I went to sleep and hoped that I didn't wake up, or stepped off a curb to cross a street and saw an oncoming car and thought maybe this is when it will happen.
Death is easy. It's final. Life, by comparison, is an ongoing grind full of both hope and uncertainty. That is hard, and after all these years, that is absolutely terrifying to me.
It's terrifying because I don't know what is going to come at me next and my tendency is to expect it to be just another thing that is going to try to destroy me. In no way am I saying that's a healthy perspective, because I honestly have no idea what is going to come at me next. It could be something wonderful for all I know.
Rather, it's a product of conditioning developed over decades. According to the doctors I worked with over the last few years, it's a product of dealing with depression and Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder.
You start looking at the world and wonder if not being part of it is a better choice than trying to find a way to exist and be accepted in it.
It's not that I don't want to experience life, either. There are so many things I want to do before my time is up, so many things I want to see. They all just feel so far beyond my reach that keeping myself motivated and wanting to continue reaching for them all the time feels so difficult.
Not being afraid of death isn't a terrible thing. I truly believe that because whether we like it or not, and no matter what we do, it will sadly get all of us eventually. Being afraid to live, though, is a terrible thing.
And I'm not entirely sure how to overcome that.
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