Intimations of mortality?

Autumn seems to be arriving, even though it's only July. The trees are beginning to look a little crinkled and brown at the edges and the light is changing from the clear, light nights of summer to the cooler, paler nights of autumn. Is it me, or do the seasons really change more rapidly now than they did when I was a child?!

With this sense of impending autumn and winter, the finalising of my mother's estate (at last) and as a result of my recent hospital visit, my thoughts have been turning to my own mortality. There's no point in ignoring the fact that we're all going to die. In turn, this made me start to consider ensuring that nobody has to go through the diffculty of arranging my affairs in the way that I had to organise everything for my mother when she died. Will writing is not a pleasant thing to contemplate, but it does allow you to make arrangements for activities beyond the disposal of your estate. I have come to the conclusion that as long as I tie up everything about what is to happen to me after death, from the need for a profusion of flowers at my funeral to the manner of my dispatch, at least nobody else will have to make those decisions.

And when I've done all that, it'll be time to live again!