I could say that I am blessed that I have not lost many people close to me.  My grandfather died when I was ten; my grandmother died during my early to mid twenties (not exactly sure when, but between the ages of 23 and 26, as I was stationed in Germany at the time); and one of my Air Force friends died when I was 25.  I’m sure there have been other deaths, both familial and work-centered, but if so, they happened after I lost touch with people (my contact with my father has been minimal since I was two and pretty much non-existent for the last 15 years or so, and except for my aunt, I’ve had no contact with anybody else on that side of my family). 

Although death has touched me lightly, I didn’t have any real fear of death, until sometime in my twenties, when my younger brother, Patrick, who is apparently a bit of a hypochondriac, passed the fear to me.  I don’t know why, but I listened to him talk of all the horrible things that could happen, and I just realized--I could die (you could say I wasn’t that bright, only realizing it then). 

I’ve told my wife many times that “bad” things that happen don’t bother me that much, because I have already imagined them happening--them and other, much worse things.  Generally, when something does happen, my thought tends to be, well, that wasn’t as bad as I was expecting.  I haven’t been able to test this theory with death yet, but I am willing to wait a while to get into the lab on that one.  I have had a few occasions when I thought I was going to die (two of them vehicle-related, one which was nowhere near my fault and one that was sort of; and one where I feel through the attic roof onto the garage floor below), and the feeling that came over me was a surprising level of acceptance--surprising to me because all moments I am not facing immediate death I get freaked out about it.

My most common death scenario was air travel (so good thing I was in the Air Force, right?).  I had minimal fear of anything going wrong once we had settled in the air, none while we were coming in for a landing (foolish since as many crashes have occurred upon landing as takeoff), and an incredible amount upon takeoff.  I used to sit in the window seat, not so much for the view, but because I believed my concentration was the only thing keeping us in the air (I have a touch of narcissism about me).  I would say that this fear is almost non-existent now that I am no longer in the military and see little reason to fly, but I also have the fear that an engine will fall off a plane and crush me from miles above (Donnie Darko didn’t help with this one).  This fear has actually increased a little since I’ve bought a house.

Top 10 ways my mind has told me I’m going to die--

1.  Airplane accident
2. The evil cat tripping me and causing me to hit my head on the TV stand (and breaking the TV, too)
3. Falling from the attic
4. My wife’s driving
5. Garbage disposal (I know if I don’t go to it, it will come to me)
6. Suffocation by cat (seriously, get off me)
7. Cheese blockage (ah, taken down by a love)
8. Paper cut gets infected--damn books with their uneven pages
9. Internet overload
10. Whale attack