03-11-14 Dear Diary, I think it must have been 1972 when I believed I received a revelation of sorts about when I would die. I told everyone close to me that I would not die before April 7, 2041. Thereafter, for several years, on each April 7th, I gave gifts to my friends in honor of my Deathday, as opposed to receiving birthday gifts. I lived every day with a secret assurance that I had a charmed existence.
Looking back now, it seems that I really did, even to the point that I'm still too embarrassed to fully admit. From time to time, I'd give someone a gift, and tell them, "Happy Deathday!" Naturally, they'd always ask, and I'd always tell them I was counting down to 2041. Of course, they all--even my brothers--would just humor me, probably thinking it was a harmless quirk.
It was last year sometime, that my memory of the revelation pushed to the surface, and I remembered that the actual original date was April 7, 2014, but I thought I'd rather live to 86, so I swapped the digits to make 2014 into 2041. I have only told a few people this so far, and they still humor me.
But, forty-plus years have passed, and April 7th, 2014 will happen in 27 days.
As it happens, it may be a good time to shuffle off this mortal coil. I have reached the pinnacle of my career, achieved the level of musical ability I had hoped to, done every extraordinary thing that interests me, discovered my own spirituality and found what I believe lies behind the veil. My body is as healthy as I could expect, I make enough money to satisfy all my desires, as well as provide for others. Apparently, I can choose to quit work any day I feel like it, and my retirement income will sustain my current lifestyle for the rest of my life. From here on, I have no higher aspiration than to cruise in my happiness for as long as it lasts.
I think I'm comfortable now about dying, being no longer concerned that my sinful existence might condemn me to eternal damnation.
Although I hesitantly think I'm ready to see what's next--if anything--I still hesitate to think about it. Interesting. I know from experience with my dying mother that our bodies are built to resist death to our last breath, but what I feel about death is nervousness, not really fear.
Anyway, since April 7, 2014 is after all, merely the date before which I won't die, all it really means is that every day after the 7th will be like everybody else's every day. The slightest misstep could kill me. I think I've spent every day since my revelation in learning how to avoid missteps. If the charm vanishes that has protected me all these years, then I hope I have learned my lessons well.
At least, until I get tired of cruising.