Saddest Gift of All

This is about as good as you’re going to get with my winkled up ass. I took my Saturday shower and pulled out a fresh razor for you. At around 61 ½ years old I’m not so much impressed with how I look at this age as I am just being this age. Despite the laundry list of things wrong with me. My doctors don’t seem to be too overly concerned with any particular problem of mine. There are moments when my health anxiety comes in handy when it comes to monitoring my physical health.
 
Thinking about a lot of people I know I worry about them both physically and mentally. I notice the subtle changes in cognitive decline and the apparent declines in their physical health. It gives me pause to wonder if they just don’t worry about it or if they’ve just given up. While age and decline go hand in hand, I can’t help but think, ain’t they worried about their quality of life? I remember my parents, especially my father. The only way you’d get him to the doctor was kicking and screaming. My mom wasn’t quite as bad, but the lack of money and an inherent lack of discipline, kept her unhealthy as well.  
 
They both died suddenly, each two and half years younger than I am now. Bringing up such a morbid subject is a real life example of how not to live your life. Life should be experienced to the fullest, with each of us fighting tooth and nail to drain every last drop of it. While I am nowhere near the shining example of how to live a full life. I do my damnest to make sure those around me do. Maybe my sense of sacrifice seems a bit twisted. That’s because I got to build up enough karma points to keep my ass from coming back as a baboon. But to know to do and not even try, is the saddest gift you can give yourself and those you love.