The Reaper

For years now, I’ve been relatively free of the fear of death. It hasn’t gripped me in the night, startled me in my daydreams, consumed me as I think of all those that have come before and all those I will leave behind. I used to carry that fear around with me all the time, and after my father died, it became almost an obsession. Pretty much since my first child was born, I have been free of that fear, which once was with me like my breathing.
Lately, that fear has been creeping back in. Not sure why. Not sure what it means. Could just be exhaustion. But every now and then, I’ll just be suddenly gripped with the reality that all this is going to go on without me, for a lot longer than it went on with me, and for just a moment that thought will clutch my heart.
[Now I’m wondering — why is he The Grim Reaper? If he’s harvesting, wouldn’t he be The Grim Sower?]