I was lying in bed, watching TV, and decided to go to sleep. As I rearranged myself to do that, I started feeling sick. I waited a moment, and was sure I was going to vomit. I am a big believer in giving in to that instead of fighting it, because I always feel better after.

I got out of bed....and almost fell on my face. I had near-zero balance and lurched to the closet door handle...then to the lowboy dresser, then to the door. I bounced off the walls down the hall to the bathroom, and got my wife to bring me a mug of cold water. I never did vomit, but it took a good 15 minutes before I felt I had my legs under me again. I was very worried that I was having a stroke, because strokes don't run, but gallop in the paternal side of my family. But I had no other symptoms, and it's not happened again.

I remember thinking "I'm not ready for this to be over yet."

Life has been, on balance, fantastic. Not all of it has gone to my liking , of course, and there were some quite trying times, and some short periods that I just hated...but overall, I have been one lucky son of a bitch. I was also lucky enough to be born with the sense to let my good fortune carry me along through life, instead of giving in to whims and acquisitiveness.

My life has always been about time and..well..life, not things. I don't care about "things" that much, because they don't make up life. Hours and days and years do, and I've had so many of them to use as I see fit.

It's been as good a life as I could have asked for, and, in the end, I guess I am acquisitive, because I want more of it.

I regret that this was not as eloquent as the OP, but it's my story. Thanks for the inspiration, Atticus.