My kids are my legacy. Whether that’s positive or negative is up to them at this point.

Regardless of that, I used to be terrified of dying. When I was younger because I hadn’t experienced or accomplished anything. Heck, George Lucas planned nine Star Wars film’s and I couldn’t die before I’d seen them all! (In retrospect, maybe that wasn’t as important as it seemed at the time.) Getting older it was because my family wasn’t ready.

Now I’m in my fifties and my body is already falling apart. My dad and father in law are in better physical shape than me due to back and joint issues. My kids are pretty close to self-sustaining — as much as they’ll ever be.

I’m as immortal as someone without big ambitions can be. I’ll never have a statue or exhibit in a museum or book written about me, but I’d be pretty happy with a park bench in a scenic spot. I don’t want to be buried, but it would be nice to have that as a place anyone who cares to could go and remember me — not some gaudy marble surrounded by death.

What more could I want other than people who love me and remember me for a time? And between now and the end, I’ve got things to keep me busy. Computer games and learning woodworking. Travel. Continuing to grow as a person. I’m not done living by any means, but I’m okay with dying. I imagine it’ll suck at the time, but all things end. Even the universe.