http://tqwhite.org/?FDAF2E
Long ago, I decided that there would be a time when I would refuse medical care intended to prolong my life. The author's reasoning about 75 as the right age for this to happen is compelling. (It might even cause me to consider getting some medical care to help me actually get to 75.)
This part of his story is particularly meaningful to me. I consider the meaning of my existence to substantially be the impression I leave on my children and have long worried about the harm an infirm old age would cause. I hate the idea of their recollections and stories being dominated by illness and incapacity.
"At age 75 we reach that unique, albeit somewhat arbitrarily chosen, moment when we have lived a rich and complete life, and have hopefully imparted the right memories to our children. Living the American immortal’s dream dramatically increases the chances that we will not get our wish—that memories of vitality will be crowded out by the agonies of decline."
As I think about this more and more, I think it is very useful to have a working definition of when the end of life is no longer to be resisted, when dying is no longer a tragedy. One hopes to be missed but, I want my offspring, family and friends to have a way to consider my inevitable passing to be appropriate and good, a culmination, not some terrible end.