"I'm getting ready for oblivion" was one of the last things my father said before his death. He was on his deathbed and in less than a day he would be gone. My brothers and sisters had gathered at my aunt’s home to comfort my father in his last hours. His body and spirit were separating before us. Our emotions ebbed and flowed as he wandered in and out of our world. That afternoon he kept repeating to himself in a low soft voice, "I'm getting ready". At the time I didn’t have the courage to question him or to ask anything of him. But my sister who had always had an insatiable curiosity asked, "What are you getting ready for" and he answered.
In that twilight hour before he departed from the form in which I grew to know and love him. He proceeded to ready himself for the inevitable. I stopped thinking along time ago of what it meant to prepare oneself for the oblivion. The only meaningful way to prepare for it, is to live.