Sometimes if you say a word three times really fast the word loses it meaning, even sounds silly. Not so, with one particular word.

Death has a very bad image and its import cannot be obfuscated with linguistic tricks or even with better advertising.

The problem with death is its absolute certainty. What else in life is so profoundly dependable?

You can be the devil or Mother Theresa, a Triathlete or a 300 pound couch potato, a tither or a atheist, death will visit you in your lifetime. Forget taxes. There is no Death Lawyer or Mortality Accountant who can get your death reduced, extended, or delayed. When time is up, time is up.

Want to have a serious illness and know (roughly) the date of your death? Or care to die when you’re not ready, maybe when the Yankees are on the brink of another  World Series? Or when you’re naked?

The best way is the “go sleep and not wake up” death. Unless your married and your spouse finds you in the morning and dies from the shock. (Note: does “spouse” cover all partnership arrangements?)

When my wife gave birth to our first child one of the sayings muttered to allay her anxiety was “millions of women have done it”. Those words aren’t as useful in the circumstances surrounding death. They don’t have much power with the second child’s birth, either.

I can’t count the number of times serious, introspective discussions assuaged my fears and convinced me of an acceptance of death. Of course, death never came and the resolution to accept death is not as certain as death: the resolve has to be reinvigorated and restored almost daily, unless you’re young and invincible.

So we linger…all of us not dead or dying, but certain we will.

The one welcome issue surrounding death is the clarity it inspires. I imagine my death bed (if I am so lucky) being a place where one last wish for one more minute will be made. And that precious minute will not be spent on social, political, sexual, or fiscal items that consistently attempted to ruin the living of my life.

I will want more minutes of loved ones, as many as can fit in the room.