The Reaper

Well, it is 2013. I escaped 2012 alive and in good health. Not everyone I know who is my age did escape. One of them, Steve Sheridan, I knew back in elementary school when we were kids. He died in 2012 of leukemia at the age of 61. I am sorry Steve died but to be honest, I prefer he experience death as opposed to my experiencing it. I do not like the notion of death, which paradoxically, is why I’m writing this blog entry.

A couple of years ago another elementary school classmate died. His name was Bob Arnold. Bob and I occasionally got into trouble together back when we were kids. We were in the same Cub Scout den. A couple of times I visited his house for Scout meetings. He was perhaps the best cusser at Glenmont Elementary School during the early 1960s. When I saw in some online obituaries that Bob had died, I really felt saddened.

I kind of imagine all of my contemporaries lining up once annually about this time of year with The Grim Reaper walking down the line and putting his hand on a couple of shoulders, thereby selecting them for expiration during the forthcoming year. With every passing year the black-cloaked guy takes a few more of us than he did the year before. That is just the way it is with aging. There are things that can be done to make a person look less attractive to The Reaper, things such as a healthy diet and exercise, but in the end if Mr. Death wants you, you will feel his hand upon your shoulder.

I’d like to think The Reaper will once again pass me by for 2013, but of course I will not know for sure until I raise my champagne glass on December 31^st at 11:59 PM, assuming I will be here to raise it. Of course come next January the utterly pointless worry starts all over again. But I’ll tell you what; next year I won’t mention it, that is, given the chance.