Dying can’t be grim if carrot cake is involved

The collars are up, the coats are on, the first frosts have started settling and warnings about fuel poverty and talks of an even worse NHS winter crisis have been hitting headlines.

So, not to be a Grim Reaper, but as the nights get darker and mortality rates get higher, it seems death is definitely a hot topic for this time of year.

Now most of us try not to think about it, much like a gazelle that’s just spotted a lion.

Many people steer well clear of the subject and perhaps sensibly so – what good can come of dwelling on an inevitable event we can’t change?

Unfortunately, I’m not quite so sensible. Being the type of person who has to check a door at least three times before I believe it’s locked, you could say I’m a little obsessive by nature.

After leaving university and starting my first job I went through a real grave (excuse the pun) period of thinking about death.

I almost got stuck on a loop – work, eat, exercise, lie awake contemplating life and existence on Earth, sleep, repeat.

Ultimately, I was terrified of being erased, of never having mattered, of being wiped from the world.

Not that I’m famous (really need to get working on that best-seller), but, if you think about it, even celebrities will eventually be forgotten.

It may take hundreds or perhaps thousands of years, but when the sun dies, that’s it, the planet will be gone, poof!

This may have gotten a bit grim, but bear with me! This was 10 years ago after all, and I’ve spoken to a few wise men and women since.

On my quest to come to terms with ‘the end’ and find a way of figuring out how to be okay with being finite, I got a few responses.

One was quite point blank, the person simply turned round and said ‘who cares?’

But while I was raising an eyebrow and feeling mildly scandalised, they then pointed out something – ‘it never bothered you before, so why would it bother you after you die?’

And it’s true, we aren’t conscious before we are born, so why be terrified of going back to the nothingness? They almost made non-existence sound blissful.

Unfortunately it didn’t quite allay my uneasiness. After all, I may not have been party to my existence before, but I was certainly thinking about it now.

Another person told me almost the opposite – that death is full of possibilities and it’s exactly what I make of it - if I want to believe people will be waiting for me or I’ll live forever in a fairy garden surrounded by tulips with frosted cream cheese carrot cake on tap, then that’s exactly what I’ll believe.

To be fair, who’s to say otherwise?

After much thought, many a restless night’s sleep and some David Gray music later, I finally was able to let it go.

Whatever conclusion you arrive at, in the end, what I found most comforting is that we’re all in it together.

Animals, plants, people – none of us are invincible.

No matter if you’re Angelina Jolie or Jane Doe, death is a destination we all share, we just get there at different times.

The most important thing is that we don’t take the days we do have for granted.

On that note, I’m off to grab a slice of carrot cake.