And When I Die

Don’t think I’m morbid — but I just can’t stop thinking about the end.

Jacques-Louis David’s “The Death of Socrates” (Photo: Pixabay)

I started fantasizing about my death when I was a kid. My childhood finale fantasy included no cause, only hordes of mourners weeping in unison, practically raising the roof of the world with their collective wailing. Good grief. Great grief.