"I gotta be honest...I never thought you'd look like the cartoons." It was the first thing I could manage as I sat at my coffee table opposite Death. I couldn't help but stare into the dark hollows of his eye sockets.

His skeletal jaw curved into a smile, one that wasn't sinister or evil, but inviting...almost playful. "You'd be surprised at how many people say that to me upon seeing me."

I responded with a solemn nod and looked past him, out my kitchen, and into my living room. Watching my family as they smiled and laughed, peered into their conversations...about me. It felt as though I was watching them as an outsider, like someone observing a movie.

My final viewing.

I nudged the half-drunk mug of tea across my dinner table. "I got to be honest. I never thought I'd make it to one hundred."

"No one does," responded Death.

I managed a smile, the corners of my mouth aching in protest. "You know it's funny. In my late twenties, I remember telling my therapist that I didn't think I'd live past thirty. I had this weird mindset for years that I was going to die before then. My therapist at the time, her response was that maybe I just didn't see my life as clearly past that age, that it was more mystery than a fear."

I shook my head as a chuckle arose from my belly. "I guess my point is that I never once thought I'd make it this far. Certainly not to one hundred...not even close." I closed my eyes and shook my head. "Look at me repeating myself."

"And when did you want to pass away?" Questioned Death.

I managed a shrug, pain rippling from my shoulders down my lower back. "I'd always joked about eighty-five. Die on the year that I was born you know?"

Death laughed. He had a nice laugh.

"Now. I remember at forty...and this isn't good mind you. But I had the intention of killing myself at forty. Throughout my thirties, I wasn't the happiest with where my life was going and I'd figured if things didn't turn around by forty...I'd just finish things."

"And are you glad that you didn't?" Death asked.

I continued to watch my family from where I was sitting. Taking as much as I could in this final moment. My oldest daughter as she held my first grandson in her arms, showing him pictures around my apartment of herself when she was a child. My youngest son as he and his wife organized a series of gifts for me on the coffee table. I glossed over the balloons that said "100", my gaze landing back on Death.

"Absolutely. You know. Maybe my life didn't turn out the way I wanted it to, not entirely..."

"No one's life ever does," replied Death.

I managed a nod. "Will I be able to watch them?"

"As much of their lives as you choose," Death said through a warm smile. "Are you ready?"

I nodded.

"Then take my hand."

And I did.