We are all going to die but.....

I was just listening to a comic who made the observation that there are a lot of people that existed before us and they have all died. There is a huge number of people who have already lived and died. In a generation or two, we will all be dead too. In effect, this world is just a bunch of dead people (or what's left of them).  It's true, there are billions and billions of humans who have lived and died compared to the number of people currently alive. With such a big ratio of dead to live people, you would think that the brevity of our lives would play a more conscious part in our lives. The amazing thing is, just the opposite is what happens. Even with death staring us in the face, we can't seem to operate unless we deny death exists. None of us expect to live forever, but we don't expect to die either. We may buy life insurance or a burial plot. We may have a will or long-term care insurance but we don't envision ourselves taking a last breath. Well, I shouldn't speak in generalities however, it just seems that once all hope is gone, depression takes over. As long as "hope" exists, people find it easier to cope, even if that "hope" is extremely small.

What is "hope?"  We all know that even if we survive whatever current illness we are "hoping" to survive there will eventually be something that kills us. It just seems that in order to live life fully, we must deny that we are mortal. Enjoying life and contemplating mortality seem to be mutually exclusive activities. Only a tiny number of people ever born are alive at one time.  How is it we have such an innate, well developed ability to spend our entire lives in denial of death? Again, I'm overgeneralizing, as there are cultures that embrace death to the point of living their lives in such a way as to prepare for death each day. I am learning to live each day as if it were independent of the days before and after. I don't know when I will have to do chemo again so every day I have any energy, I do as much as I can. Each day becomes a singularity. Gone are the days I sacrificed weeks to reach payday. Gone are the days I blended months as bridges to vacations. Every day is a vacation to me that stands alone from the days preceding or following.  Knowing that my cancer is being treated as a chronic illness, I know I will go through months of chemo, some breaks, radiation, some breaks, and PET scans that will rule my life. It's become a bit of a challenge. My goal is to survive the damage of the cure until someone develops a silver bullet that will attack only the cancer and not the rest of me. If that doesn't happen then I will become a member of the biggest group of people ever formed - dead ones.