Excuse the morbidity. Well, actually, don't. Death came up in conversation yesterday with Siobhan, as you would expect when theology and medicine students converge. But death is one of those things that I'm slowly getting tired of. Not, obviously, that I am being plagued by it, but the fear it strikes into the heart of every human. I distinctly remember talking to my Dad once, as we drove through central London, about how I was quite looking forward to death.
But age has made a faithless man of me. Since that child-like declaration, I have become rather attached to life. It has grown on me. I have dreams, aspirations, things to live for. And yet, life is only fleeting, and as if seeing through a glass darkly. I want to hold onto life much more lightly.