I don’t fear death or being dead. I don’t fear it any more than I fear falling to sleep each night. I didn’t fear it when I underwent the drugged sleep of anaethesia. The fact is it truly is “the big sleep” as Raymond Chandler called it.
I do fear the dying process. I fear the pain, the leaving behind…
But I don’t fear death or being dead, anymore than I feared not existing before I was born. I think that references Mark Twain. It’s true though. I didn’t exist before I was born, or rather, before I became self-aware and stored memories that could be remembered past a few months.
Someday I will die. My physical influence on this world will end. I hope that my life has been lived well enough that people will remember me with fondness and humour.