We're gonna die

We both know this. As for me, you tell me that maybe I'll fall into an unmarked hot spring and boil. Maybe I'll buy a car without side airbags and be crushed. Maybe Yellowstone will blow and I'll have picked an apartment on the wrong side of the Mississippi. Maybe I'll lick cookie dough with salmonella. Maybe I'll puncture my throat gesturing with a sharpened candy cane. Maybe I'll walk to the bus stop on a dark night instead of driving, and be dragged off to an unspeakable end. Yes, one of these fates which you illustrate for me out of love, out of care, or one of a thousand other fates all ending the same place, will be mine. And despite vitamins, safety features, savings, insurance, prudence, mistrust, fear, despite health food, moderation, and vaccinations--one day you'll die too. Cautious one, beloved friend, choose your path through the wondrous wreckage of this world. Step with all the care you please. The way may be just as you like, or otherwise. And as we fall, one by one, or perhaps hand in hand, as we lose gravity, weight and our entire collection of atoms, may we be thankful for our days. May we die in pain but without bitterness. May we think not "If only I hadn't--" but "Oh! this was worth it!"