Something strange has been happening the past few months. I've been having flashbacks to my youth.
When I say "youth" I don't mean when I was in my twenties or teens. I mean YOUTH. Really young like two, three or four years old.
It happens at the strangest times. When I was returning from a visit to my old hold state of Pennsylvania on Christmas Day; rolling down the straight stretch of Route 1, little Sparks of Memory would flash in my mind of barely remember instances of my pre memory. Does this make any sense at all?
It does to me. I think this is a precursor to my knowledge that I am coming to the end of this roadshow called The Life of Ronald Tipton. Yes folks, this is one clownshow that is making its final run.
I don't know if this has to do with my decision not to follow-up on my recent high PSA score which could (or could not) indicate that I have prostate cancer. I have decided not to go the usual route and get a biopsy taken of my prostate gland. I have decided not to take that downward spiral.
As my urologist told me before we even discussed my options: "Mr. Tipton, a man your age...even if you do have prostate cancer will probably die of another cause than of the prostate cancer."
Of course I was immediately taken aback by the statemen "a man your age..." My first impulse was to look over my shoulder to see WHO was HE talking to. Okay, I'll use the old Robert DeNiro line..."you talking to me?" Unfortunately, the good doctor WAS talking to me.
So here is the deal. I know I'm going to die of something. Hey, we're all going to die of something. Most of us don't know when or where but it will happen.
I might die of this cancer, I might not. Someone could ram into my car tomorrow (with all the crazy drivers we have down here that is very possible) or I could die a very old man in diapers; ravaged with a long and slow and humiliating death. God, I hope not. When I die I hope I go I hope I die in my sleep, having one of those wonderful fantasy sex dreams that I used to have when I was a teenage and all hormones up. Yessiree, that's the way I want to go. But we have little control over our Final Demise. Most of us let
One thing that I do know that lately I've been having these quick Flashes of Memory of a time gone by. I know they are part of my earliest memory because they make me feel secure and comfortable. There is no fear or dread in these little sparks of memory flashbacks. I feel as if I'm ending where I began with this memory thing. I hope I'm not being too cryptic or weird.
It's all very strange, yet somehow comforting. Maybe when we die there really will be that all enveloping light at the end of a long tunnel that welcomes us with peace, love and comfort.
Remember the last words Steve Jobs uttered before he died:
I wonder what he saw. Maybe we will all find out one day. If not, then there is the peace and comfort of the nothingness. But for now, I'm enjoying these sparks of flashback memories.