I went to visit my sister in the hospital today. She woke up with a rare disease that causes you to lose control of one side of your face. She had slurred speech even though she was in high spirits. I was really sad to see her in that condition.
It's funny how we all roll merrily along our path of life and avoid thinking about what could happen to us from one minute to the next. We hear about all sorts of bad things, but we try to think that will never happen to me that only happens to other people. Until something tragic happens to someone close to you. That's when you begin to think about your own fragile mortality.
Reality sometimes really sucks. I'm getting old now, and I realize there's nothing I can do to stop the Grim Reaper from visiting me. After seeing my sister in that horrible condition. Even though it's expected to improve rapidly. It turned my thoughts to my own condition. Frankly, with all the pain I'm currently experiencing. Sometimes I think death is my best cure. However, I keep struggling on wondering if I have actually served my purpose here.
This is probably a taboo subject, much like religion, politics, and race relations. I was probably just feeling a little sorry for us all. Realizing that whatever we do it all turns to dust.
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