Death. I don't know if I'll be good at it but I'm pretty good at living. And part of living is accepting the fact that this life will end at some point. No, I'm not afraid of death. But I'm afraid of dying,--of me becoming a burden to my husband and my kids. I'm terribly uncomfortable with the idea of becoming dependent on others.

If I had a choice I would like to to die like they do in movies. I want to end my days laying on a lace pillow, propped up just right so no one will see my double chins . I want to close my eyes after (and this is important) saying something deeply meaningful and profound using as few words as possible. Then I want to fade away with a smile on my face. But knowing me, that part about making a profound, short statement will not happen. Just look at this comment. It's way too long. But thank you Nancy for a thought provoking piece.


M.S. Psychology| I write about life, relationships, things that make me laugh, cry, or all of the above in one piece. You can reach me at

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