Do you fear death?

As I grow older I am facing the same thing that has always plagued mankind: the specter of my own mortality.  It comes naturally.  As my children scamper around my feet, I wonder about their futures.  I look into my wife’s eyes and bathe in the warmth of a good woman’s love.  I realize that some of my ambitions for myself will never be realized, but am thankful for the blessings that I receive every day.  And I realize that I will follow the path of every man who has walked this earth before me. 

I will die. 

It’s really only a matter of when and how.  We all hope to live to old age and die painlessly, but we all realize that our death could come soon and painfully.  And we all fear the long lingering death of a protracted illness.  Few people get the privilege to choose the time and manner of their own demise. 

In a previous post, I stated that I am ready to die, and I am.  But that doesn’t answer the question of whether or not I fear death.  In that post, Jim said:

So, for me it’s not about regret. It’s about what I’d miss.

I’d have to agree.  I do not fear death, but I think about the things I’ll miss. 

I am well insured and know that my family will be taken care of should I die.  I know that my Lord will welcome me into eternity despite my multitude of failures.  I accept that my death may be painful, but know that pain is merely another reminder of mortality as eternity awaits.  But I don’t want to miss anything.  I don’t want to miss giving away my three daughters at their weddings.  I don’t want to miss watching my son become a man.  I don’t want to miss my grandchildren’s lives.  I don’t want to miss watching my darling wife grow grey and sharing with her the deep love and wisdom that only years can bring. 

I don’t want to miss anything, but I have no choice. 

Reality dictates that no matter when I assume room temperature, I will miss something.  I will miss a lot.  Reconciling that is more difficult than the prospect of death.