My Dad, not the world's biggest optimist, has a response he sometimes uses when someone asks him how he is doing. It is "well, I'm still above grass, so I guess I'm doing pretty good." My Dad is soon to be 88 and by all accounts pretty darn healthy, still working outside, still driving, still doing various social activities and making sure he keeps one eye on my Mom at all times to be sure she stays out of trouble. Trouble, I might add, which I am the one likely to get her into, at least in his opinion. As my parents get older, I think about the fact that no one lives forever, and while I don't want to even think about it, my parents won't live forever either. I honestly don't think a whole lot about my own mortality. I consider myself to be still young and healthy and I have a whole lot of things I want to accomplish before I take off to parts unknown, if you know what I mean. I also have a husband and two small children who need me. The thought of leaving my pristine house and impressionable young babes in the sole care of my husband is too scary! I just know he wouldn't make them make their beds and I am POSITIVE he would never clean the inside of the microwave! Remembering to sign all that paperwork from school? Forget about it! Daily Swiffering? Not gonna happen! But, I digress. The subject here is my mortality. I really thought about my mortality a lot this week. You see, a woman from our parish- not someone I knew well, but someone I did know- well, it's like this: she was diagnosed with cancer and given six months to live. This was around the 20th of February. She died 10 days later, on the 2nd of March. WOW! How the heck do you deal with THAT?! I sat there in church after the announcement of her funeral with my head swimming. How do you face imminent death? How do you prepare your loved ones? How do you attend to all the practical details of wrapping up your life here on earth? How in the world do you say goodbye to your husband, your kids, your parents? How do you prioritize your last 10 days of life? I mean, this is heavy stuff. Now, I am a woman of faith, and I have no doubt of the existence of a loving God and an afterlife of unending joy. I am no saint, but I have no fear of burning in Hell either. So, it's not that I fear death. Death is not an end, it is a "transition" into another kind of life. A better kind promised to me by my loving Father in heaven. So, it's not a fear of death that has me wanting to stick around here for awhile. And, though it does factor in, it's not even the thought of my un-Swiffered house or splattered microwave that gives me pause. It's the little things: kissing my husband. Hugging my kids. Talking to my Mom every day. Celebrating my birthday. Cooking a great meal. Drinking a great glass of wine. Laughing with my girlfriends. Driving a fast car. Hearing my 4 year old sing the whole Little Einsteins theme. Snuggling with my son. Seeing my Dad's face light up when he sees his grandchildren. Talking recipes and politics with my brothers. Listening to a favorite song cranked up loud. Seeing the beautiful sunset from my back porch. The smell of hyacinths. The sound of the ocean. Thunderstorms. And definitely chocolate! I can't imagine having to say good bye to all these things! Is it possible to not fear death, but to fear the absence of seemingly small, silly things like chocolate chip cookies? I would have to say yes. I would hope that I have a long life ahead of me, and that by the time it is time for me to say goodbye I will be so old and worn out that I will be ready to give up chocolate for heaven. I sincerely hope that I will just fall asleep in my favorite chair when I'm 101 or so and simply never wake up. Just peacefully go home to God without a great deal of fuss. I honestly don't know how I would "wrap it up" and get ready to go in just 10 short days. I cannot even fathom what it would be like to try to do that and for my family to face that. But I'll tell you one thing- this ladies' story has made me think long and hard about what is and isn't important. After all, none of us know how long we have. Whether we are young or old, healthy or not, no one knows exactly how much time they have. So we have to make each day count! People say "don't sweat the small stuff." I say it's the small stuff that matters most! It's the little every day things, all piled up on top of one another, that make up a life. Chances are, if you reflect on what's important to you, it won't be lofty goals or spectacular plans that come to the forefront. It will be little things like tucking your kids in at night or having a date night with your husband. These things we can do! We can plan and we can accomplish! For the next 10 days, pick one thing to do, or one place to go, or one thing to eat and SAVOR it! Don't sweat the big stuff! SAVOR THE LITTLE THINGS! In the end, you see, when a life is lived, it's the little things that people remember. You don't hear people say in a eulogy "She had a diversified retirement account" or "she had a Master's degree in chemical engineering." Or "she paid her mortgage on time every month." You hear people say "She was a great Mom." Or "she always had a kind word and a hug for anyone who needed it." "She loved to laugh." "She knew a good bottle of wine when she saw one and she loved to share it with her friends." "She knew more jokes than anybody else I know." "She made the best pumpkin pie ever." "Her smile could light up a room." It's the every day things that matter most. So don't sit around and wait for something fabulous to happen. See the fabulous in today!
SMELL THE ROSES FOREVER, TAKE IT FOR GRANTED NEVER!
