Good Memories

When a loved one dies, whether friend or family, one remembers the good days, the Spring, Summer and Fall, but not the Winter of life. The same applies as when savoring a pot of tea--can it be judged by the dregs? I cherish the good memories, but dismiss the last stages of decline as being irrelevant, other than providing a lesson. I will probably want to skip the very worst stages of decline myself rather than endure them, because I don't really see the point, all things considered. I don't put any stock in religious notions of leaving existence "in God's hands." I will place my own existence in my own hands, thank you very much, and keep the change. Indeed, we are the hands of God.