The Death Clock's predictions can become more than a little entertainment for Halloween as years go by.
“Nutrisco et Extinguo” Memento mori _DDC5301
The Death Clock (http://deathclock.com/) is a little widget that predicts one's date of death, based on a few lifestyle questions. It has been around forever and I've been amused with its predictions several times, especially comparing its four modes – optimistic, normal, pessimistic and sadistic. However, as I'm growing older and the dates creep closer, the whole thing becomes more food for thought than a joke.
In fact, if I found out I had only ten more years to live, that would make me 49 and would be a better deal than a certain sadistic mode prediction that offed me at 46, if I remember well. Not that I'd be particularly chuffed, but it would certainly be better than a lot of other possibilities.
My biggest fear is dying while my son still needs me; on top of that, leaving him young enough not to remember me well is my worst nightmare. Ten more years would make him 13. He would still need me, no doubt about that, but he'd be able to cope. I'd make sure to use these years to imprint his Greek heritage on him: take him visiting, especially as long as his grandmother is still alive, teach him the language, perhaps see about getting him dual citizenship. I'd hate to see that part of him wiped out through ignorance, while it would help remind his father of me.
Beyond that, I have very few goals to achieve. My bucket list would be very short. I don't care for a career now, let alone if I knew my time was running out. I don't care for travelling; I don't feel there's a single place on earth to see or thing to do to be complete. I'd just spend my time doing what I enjoy. Writing, getting as many stories of those that swarm inside my head out of it before they fell silent. Reading the words and worlds of others, especially during times when my own strength might fail. Above all, spending time with my husband, quality time, without letting the petty concerns of day to day life get in the way. I'd help him with everything right to the end, but refuse to burden myself with business that must remain unfinished.
In the end, I would just make sure to get my green burial, hopefully with a rowan planted over me. I like the idea of returning to the earth literally, back into the circle of life, feeding some of the creatures that grow to feed others of my kind. I expect my faith would be my refuge, empowering me to face the transition without fear but with hope, and to let go of what I used to have and know, as must we all.
