Often, I contemplate what I would do if I knew the end was near. What would sustain me until that inevitable moment? Initially, the thought was quite unnerving. However, with time and reflection, it became more manageable.

Perhaps I would reconcile my past, a journey known only to myself. While many have contributed to it, life is ultimately one's own experience. Should I find myself facing the end, I am confident in relying on my memories to see me through. The memories with the comfort of being honest.

The greatest joy I can draw is the fortune of having been born. At sixty-two, it feels as if this is just the beginning – the start of the unknown. The only certainty is that it will eventually come to an end.