TIME GOES BY | My Bodily Remains

by Ronni Bennett


We're old, most of us who hang around this blog and with age, death becomes a topic of consideration. Try as we might to ignore it, such necessities as wills, medical directives, the question of burial versus cremation, financial arrangements, even the choice of music at our funerals and a host of other decisions make it hard to avoid thoughts of our demise.

But none of these things nor death itself are what bother me in thinking about the end of my days. They feel more like paying the monthly bills or taking out the garbage – just stuff that needs to be done.

No, what bothers me most about dying is my naked body - who will see it, who will touch it and what they will do with it.

I'm not concerned that my body isn't as cute as when I was young. Nowadays, it's pudgy, wrinkled, discolored here and there, scarred in a couple of places and an amazing number of parts are droopy. No one's interested in this body for a Playboy centerfold but, then, they never were. The aged condition of it is not the issue.

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