The plan.

I'm trying to formulate a strategy, a plan, an outlook on how to deal with the realities of my illness - and how to spend the remainder of my life.
Today I drove past the home of a family friend, Ms. Faye, who died recently. I thought about her being gone and about her mother, who was also gone. And her father. And her husband. And her son, whom I was friends with in school. All gone. Then I thought about my mom hanging out with Ms. Faye. And I thought about my mom being gone, only 12 years older than I am now. Did she see it coming? Then my dad, who was only 4 years older than I am now. And my brother, who was 36 when he died! It used to seem like I was going to live forever, but I realize now that I don't have much time left.
I want to live 'til I die, as my dad used to say. I would like to say that is my plan, like the people who say they're going to live life to the fullest, as if each day was the last. Yeah, I want a bold mission statement like that. But, I'm a cynic - a positive cynic - but a cynic nonetheless. I can't, for the life of me, see things in black and white.
But I need a plan...