So while I was running today I was thinking about whether it would seem pointless to continue to work on your novel if you knew you were dying.
And then I remembered/realized that we are all terminally ill. We are all dying. Do we only stay sane by pretending that this isn't true for us? My mom is about the only person I know who is ready to go.
I guess in the end it comes down to the what Freud said. Lieben und Arbeiten. Love and work.Loving each other, creating something - those are the important things.