Last night I began wondering what my life will be like when I’m older. Will I have anyone to take care of me if or when I get ill, or perhaps what will I do when I become too old to take care of myself and have no family to help me?
I must admit this was the first time I’ve thought about this. When I’ve visualized my future, it never really goes that far. I remember a reoccurring dream when I was 17; I died of leukemia before I was even thirty. I’ve never really been fantastic when thinking about what I would like my life to be when I’m twice, or three times my current age.
My parents worry, I know they do. They worry about if I’ll choose to take my life, if I’ll leave church, or what will happen to me when they pass away.
I woke up this morning, afraid that my life was going to be lonely, that I was going to actually live, and I would have to face that loneliness and decide what to do with it.