ELSEWHERE

I was lying in my hospital bed looking at the ceiling,
Barry Manllow, the world famous singer, said that
it was a soul searching experience when he had
an operation on his magnificent hooter.

I was not in the same famous league but nevertheless
we are all reduced to a similar level when our health
needs hospital attention, although the rich and famous
may be able to achieve more comfortable surroundings.

No one knew that I might be terminal and I didn't want
to think about such an event. The loss of freedom is
an immediate concern when you can no longer walk
into a pub and order a pint of beer. No longer able to
sit in the sunshine except if someone can push you
in a wheelchair towards a window.

Smoking was usually out of the question unless you
wanted to hasten your death even quicker. 
Of course, there is the possibility that you may improve.
As it happened,I didn't. The spirit may have been willing 
but the flesh was weak. I'd had an interesting life, 
many friendships, travelled extensively, lived abroad
for many years, had a good job - not rich but usually
had enough to have a bit of a ball.

So what was ahead? Was I going to nothing?
I believed in God but was not a churchgoer as such.
However, prayers did not come easily to me 
and I was never sure if God was listening anyway.

Middle-aged now, so I'd had my fair share of years.
If my health had been good enough, maybe I could
have squeezed another twenty or so. I'd reached a point
where I was tired of travel - now maybe it was time
to travel to another place.

But which place was that going to be? 
many of us are scared of dying - going into the unknown.
The churchgoers may be more comfortable with their
ultimate destiny. They are told that they will be going
to heaven if they lead a decent life.
It was doubtful if most of us could aspire to such heights.