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Death
- Thread starter Bill Walker
- Start date
journolud
Well-Known Member
Think about it too much but not to an obsessive degree. Not helped probably by the fact I’m currently earning my bread in a nursing home where everyone has dementia to a greater or lesser degree and are on the last leg of their journey. With the greatest respect to anyone who has lost or is losing a relative to it, it’s horrible to see what might await us.
When I get back to my proper day job I’ll be regularly discussing, amongst other things, the risk of suicide or as has happened the impact of it on others. Depressing really, about time I gave it all up.
When I get back to my proper day job I’ll be regularly discussing, amongst other things, the risk of suicide or as has happened the impact of it on others. Depressing really, about time I gave it all up.
Uncle Wally One Ball
Well-Known Member
I see on average 3 dead bodies a week and death is just part of my everyday life. Last year I lost my mother, my best mate from work who had been retired less than a year aged 56, a mate who died of a sudden clutcher on his 51st birthday, 3 old boys from our boozer and my mate next door lost his brother who was a good friend to us. I just see it as a practicality. Its either sudden or assuredly very well managed by medical practitioners. None of them suffered overly and had the help and support needed. Just got to realise that death is a part of life.
JRockBlues
Well-Known Member
I'm just hoping it's Neil Gaiman's version of Death that comes for me when it's time. I can live with that if it turns out to be the case. ;)
Brightwell’s left peg
Well-Known Member
I’ll take your word for his existence B-j. It isn’t something I spend much time enquiring about.There’s very little argument now that he didn’t exist and even atheist scholars believe the crucifixion happened, the resurrection and him being the Son of God is the part most debated, for obvious reasons.
Bigg Bigg Blue
Well-Known Member
When you get the curly finger from the grim reaper it's time to go, so just enjoy life while you can.
BlueMoonRisin’
Well-Known Member
Too true Bigg fella, well said. Mine's a pint next time you're at the bar mate, and don't forget musty: )When you get the curly finger from the grim reaper it's time to go, so just enjoy life while you can.
I am looking forward to being welcomed into its loving arms
To be, or not to be, that is the question:
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
Or to take Arms against a Sea of troubles,
And by opposing end them: to die, to sleep;
No more; and by a sleep, to say we end
The heart-ache, and the thousand natural shocks
That Flesh is heir to? 'Tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wished. To die, to sleep,
To sleep, perchance to Dream; aye, there's the rub,
For in that sleep of death, what dreams may come,
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
Must give us pause. There's the respect
That makes Calamity of so long life:
For who would bear the Whips and Scorns of time,
The Oppressor's wrong, the proud man's Contumely,
The pangs of dispised Love, the Law’s delay,
The insolence of Office, and the spurns
That patient merit of the unworthy takes,
When he himself might his Quietus make
With a bare Bodkin? Who would Fardels bear, [F: these Fardels]
To grunt and sweat under a weary life,
But that the dread of something after death,
The undiscovered country, from whose bourn
No traveller returns, puzzles the will,
And makes us rather bear those ills we have,
Than fly to others that we know not of.
Thus conscience does make cowards of us all,
And thus the native hue of Resolution
Is sicklied o'er, with the pale cast of Thought,
And enterprises of great pitch and moment, [F: pith]
With this regard their Currents turn awry, [F: away]
And lose the name of Action. Soft you now,
The fair Ophelia? Nymph, in thy Orisons
Be all my sins remember'd.
To be, or not to be, that is the question:
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
Or to take Arms against a Sea of troubles,
And by opposing end them: to die, to sleep;
No more; and by a sleep, to say we end
The heart-ache, and the thousand natural shocks
That Flesh is heir to? 'Tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wished. To die, to sleep,
To sleep, perchance to Dream; aye, there's the rub,
For in that sleep of death, what dreams may come,
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
Must give us pause. There's the respect
That makes Calamity of so long life:
For who would bear the Whips and Scorns of time,
The Oppressor's wrong, the proud man's Contumely,
The pangs of dispised Love, the Law’s delay,
The insolence of Office, and the spurns
That patient merit of the unworthy takes,
When he himself might his Quietus make
With a bare Bodkin? Who would Fardels bear, [F: these Fardels]
To grunt and sweat under a weary life,
But that the dread of something after death,
The undiscovered country, from whose bourn
No traveller returns, puzzles the will,
And makes us rather bear those ills we have,
Than fly to others that we know not of.
Thus conscience does make cowards of us all,
And thus the native hue of Resolution
Is sicklied o'er, with the pale cast of Thought,
And enterprises of great pitch and moment, [F: pith]
With this regard their Currents turn awry, [F: away]
And lose the name of Action. Soft you now,
The fair Ophelia? Nymph, in thy Orisons
Be all my sins remember'd.
Bigg Bigg Blue
Well-Known Member
Too true Bigg fella, well said. Mine's a pint next time you're at the bar mate, and don't forget musty: )
There's still one in the gay bar that you didn't drink :)
bluethrunthru
Well-Known Member
I guess we'd all like to die in our sleep when the time comes.
given a pillow and a bit of downward pressure it can be arranged ha ha ha ha