Ancient

I'm not sure why, but today I thought about two people who lived here when we first moved in sixteen years ago. Although Millie and Henry were not a couple, if you saw one you almost always saw the other. Millie lived on the first floor and Henry lived on the third floor, just a couple doors down from us. When we arrived, they were the oldest people in the building. In the complex for that matter. I don't know how old they were but both were very close to ninety. Now, as far as I can figure, there is only one person here who is older than me. If you don't think that's a strange thing about which to think, wait until it's your turn. Normally, I don't think about my age, but with my rapidly failing health, it's on my mind more and more. Although, having said that, I don't think age is a major factor regarding health. A lot of older people just sort of slip quietly away, not because they're sick but simply old.  Death, especially my own, is weird to contemplate, but I must confess a morbid curiosity.  I find myself frequently wondering what it's like to die and to be dead.  I don't know about anyone else, but it's difficult for me to imagine not existing in some form on some level.  If you haven't figured it out yet, I do not believe in religion.  It only makes sense for people who desperately need something to which to cling to get them through each day.  The whole purpose of religion is believing that you'll die and spend the rest of time sitting next to Jesus saying, "Hey Jesus, you da man!"  That's not my idea of a life, either before or after.  So what the hell IS the purpose of life?  Is there a purpose?  Or are we no more than the plants that come and go each spring and winter?.

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À la prochaine, mes amis.