End Of Life Poem by RoseAnn V. Shawiak

Near the end of life, what will it be like? Being old, not
able to do anything for yourself. Independence gone.

Dependent upon others to do for you what you yourself can
no longer accomplish.

What will those things make me feel? How will I handle
them?

Will I be uncomplaining and have a ready smile? Or will I
be crabby and hateful to those who come to help me?

Realizing I can become one or another later in life, now
practicing, being kind, saying thank you, appreciating every
little bit of help which comes my way.

This can be done now while still young enough, still of sane
mind and alive.

It is a conscious choice and I will prepare for old age in
this way, because I feel it is good to work on character
and attitude throughout my final chapter.

Always with the knowledge however, that I will die and
never really get to practice, never being able to grow old
in reality.

However, it will make me a nicer person now and I will not
mind the short little life intended for me.

It is alright, life has been full, having lived a thousand
years in the sixty-three I have already been given.

Not minding at all, already tired, have been for quite a
while, it will feel good to finally be at rest, daily,
looking forward to it.

Blessed peace and life, hereafter I will acknowledge being
hoped for, prayed for, from this little one's soul.