I have high hopes that death, when it comes will have waited many more years. I've also no idea why I am thinking about it today, but I am.
I used to think that I'd know it when it came, that I'd feel its approach. That I'd at least have a little time to adjust to the idea. I now know that probably won't be the case. I was injured this spring (a week before my 50th Birthday) in a horse riding accident. There wasn't much riding to it. I got on and then I came off. I was working for people who, though they own quite a few horses don't apparently know that much about them.
I'd rearranged my schedule so I could take a nice ride in the morning before I went to work and then another when I got home. Thereby fulfilling my obligation to ride out the horses they wanted to use for trail rides. This was to be my second morning engaging in this wonderful new schedule.
They gave me a horse I was unfamiliar with and told me she was fine. Willie, their man said, that the last time he'd rode her, I don't remember when, she'd been fine. "She rodeo'd on me a little when I first got on her but after that she was ok."
I now know this means "That horse ain't broke."
She was looking wild eyed at me the whole time I was saddling her. I thought, "Well, she doesn't know me and she'll be fine once I get on her back."
I've not been that wrong in a really long time.
As soon as I got on her she felt incredibly stiff, and she started dancing a little. I thought I'd better get that stopped quick before she got the wrong idea and so I tried to turn her to the right, there was no give to her at all and I knew I was in trouble. So I turned her to the left and she gave a little and as she turned her front feet came off the ground, but they went back down after I turned her a bit more.
That's the last thing I remember.
Apparently I gave her back her head after she turned and that was when she came up off her front feet to get rid of me. As most inexperienced bronc riders do, (mind you I'm no bronc rider, but that day all the rules applied to my situation) I tried to stay on her. I'm assuming I accomplished this by using the reins to keep my balance, and yes, all I really got done was to pull her over on top of me.
This is conjecture on my part cause the next recollection I have is standing in my living room some 100 yards from the last place I had been conscious, and touching the back of my head saying, "Why is my head bloody? And why am I in the house?"
No I never went to the dr. get off my back about it.
About that time Steve walked in my front door and said, "Sean come here." apparently I was wandering the house aimlessly.
He said, "Do you know what just happened?" I told him no, and he said, "Ok, you just had an accident with a horse, she rodeo'd on you and then came over on top of you. You hit your head and were knocked out for about a minute." He checked on me repeatedly throughout the morning and since I had started to make sense again by noon, he left me alone.
Shortly after that I was asked to leave the farm. I still wonder if it was because they feared me telling people about it, and running off customers, or if they were afraid of their own liability, or if they figured out I'm gay. It was one, or all three, I'll never know and don't really care. They demonstrated to me that they have no real knowledge of horses and all I was going to get was permanently injured there and I'm glad I left.
But that incident let me know that death, when it arrives doesn't always knock politely and ask if it can come in. It just shows up.
I have no real fear of it, I know in my heart that one day it'll happen and all this stuff I've wasted my time worrying about won't matter anymore, and that, as they say, will be that. So, though I'd rather not linger with some wasting disease waiting for it to happen, it'll show up in its own time, in its own guise, and I'll go when I have to.
But between now and then I'm going out there and I'm going to be the best Sean I can be. Cause in the end that's all that matters, that every day, succeed or fail, you woke up with that intention.
I guess I'm sounding a little grim today, sorry. Not my intention, just thinking out loud.