Now, not to worry. I seem to be in good health. But with back-to- back weekends of death and dying: Being with Don Schaller’s family as they spread his ashes in Truckee, then the memorial for Robert Fish at our home, I’m thinking a lot about the end.
When I think of my own death, I want simplicity. No big deal. It is over. Pebble in the water. Ripples. Then smooth. No meaning. A few people will cry for a few weeks and move on. As it should be. The giant redwood dies off so the sapling can grow.
Here is my epitaph (assuming I die in 2017):
…and there you have it. Time to move on.