I had quite a scare last night. Yesterday while I was at work, one of my doctors that I had recently seen had left a message on my voicemail at home that I was to call to speak with her before 4:30pm that day, or call on Thursday in the morning before noon. Now, at my last appointment, I had been told by the doctor that I would only hear from her if something was wrong. I naturally assumed that something was wrong, and so, began to panic mightily. It was too late to reach the doctor when I got the message, and I could not even imagine waiting until Thursday-I wasn’t even sure I’d be able to get through the night at that point, I was sooo upset. I called this morning first thing, and spoke with a nurse, who told me the specific reason the doctor had called and that it was a very common issue, and there was absolutely nothing to worry about. Well, geez, couldn’t the doctor have mentioned something in the voicemail??!! *handpalm* “Please return my call, but I assure you, it’s nothing to worry about” That would have been nice. *gravely nods* Instead, I panicked myself into hysterics, believing I was one step away from Death. Bloody freaking hell-grrrrrrrrrrrr.
With my recent health issues these last couple of years, I kinda always feel like I’m just waiting for the other shoe to drop. Like something even worse is waiting just around the corner to get me. And of course, it doesn’t help having lost my mom at such an early age-she was 58, and it was very sudden and unexpected. I don’t deal with Death well. In fact, thinking about dying leaves a little empty pit in my stomach, and I feel like the room is closing in, and that I’m about to panic-I have to occupy my mind immediately with something else.
On the flip side of that ugly little coin, I have of late been really earnest in telling Craig what I want when I die. He jokes that I’m completely disturbed. Who knows, maybe he’s right…but as long as he knows what I want, it makes me feel better.
I have spent the larger portion of my life spouting off that I’m going to live forever, but in the inevitable demise of my person, I would like a traditional funeral with pagan elements, including a Priestess to officiate. I want “Into the West” by Annie Lenox played at the end. And I want a mausoleum with room for both Craig and I, at Mt. Hope, if possible and if we’re still in NY state. I want our mausoleum to be carved with cultivated roses, and ivy, with columns and a granite overhang as well, and I want a statue of a cat on either side of the entrance, one sitting up, one laying down, both watchful and regal looking. If possible, I’d also like a small stained glass window of the Tree of Life-but this is not a necessity.