The Problem With Dieing

When I was a young boy, no more than five years old, I was shot in the head. Even seventy years later, I still remember it quite vividly. I was visiting my Grand mother Eva Groover. It was a cold winter morning.

I was sitting on the floor in front of a crackling fire in the kitchen fire place waiting for Grandma to finish cooking breakfast on the pot bellied cast iron stove. The next thing I knew I was in the bed looking up at Grandma’s anxious face as she wiped blood off of my forehead. Some how a bullet had been swept into the fire place. The heat from the fire had caused it to go off as if had been shot from a pistol.

The bullet struck my forehead knocking me instantly unconscious. Fortunately it was a glancing blow. If it had been half an inch lower,  I wouldn’t be here writing this today.  I think that’s about as close to actually dieing as I have ever been.

Now, as an old man facing the prospect of death by natural causes, I wonder, will it be the same? Will I just suddenly go black and that’s it? Maybe so.  Or maybe I will wake up in a new form to a new life.  Either way it will be interesting.


About J. D. Groover

I truely believe that what should matter most in life is how you see yourself, not how someone else tries to convince you to see yourself. *****Life is not about "finding yourself"*****its about creating yourself.!!!!! I write and post things here because I like to think I am contributing some things of value to my world. Some times a little humor, some times things with a more serious tone, but hopefully always in good taste. If what I post occasionally bites a politician in the ass, all the better :>)
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1 Response to The Problem With Dieing

  1. Pete says:

    I can not remember all the times my life ‘almost’ ended.
    From falling asleep while driving near Denver to chest pains in Texas and bear surprises in Alaska
    Whatever the cause now that I am ‘old’ one does tend to think about what it will be like.

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