Parts of my work deal with the disclosure aspects of financial and insurance products, hence there was a discussion on the funeral insurance industry and their lack of disclosure, ie, that you pay more in premiums than the $5-6,000 required for a funeral, and it would simply be better to place your money in a savings account to pay for funeral expenses.
Anyway, part of the funeral insurance industry diatribe is to get people to consider how long they may live and points people toward the website www.mylongevity.com.au (there’s probably something similar in all countries throughout the world).
So I gave it a go and filled out the survey. The end result is that I have another 54 years to live (not taking into account natural disasters, accidents or terminal illnesses)! Yes, I’d be over 100 years old which is more than I can possibly cope with.
Needless to say, none of the questions in the survey were about mental health. My body may cope with such longevity but what about my mind? There is a bit of history of dementia in my family so the probability is quite high that my body will be fine, relatively speaking, but my mind will be insane.
The prospect of living another 54 years is not one that I look forward too. I know that others will differ in their opinion but why would you want to live that long if all of your friends and family are already dead and you are more than likely insane? What is the point of such longevity?
I guess it returns to the question of the meaning of life; a question I have been pondering deeply since Clea’s death and one which I intend to write a post about shortly.
I told my sons of my longevity survey and one of them kindly said, ‘Don’t worry Mum, we’ll make sure you’re dead before then.’ At least, someone will be looking out for my interests.