There will be no trumpets blaring, no angels, no Elvis leaving the building to herald my passage from the “here” to the “here-after.”
It will be a day like any other.
The world will be in full gear.
People busy going about their lives.
Perhaps noticing something amiss … or not.
On that day all my emails and telephone calls will go unanswered.
My bills and money (if there is any) will be left for others to squabble over.
The noisy chatter, the grudges, the regrets, the bickering, the hard lines I’d drawn in the sand, will fall by the wayside.
The half-written stories on my laptop will remain just as I left them, unfinished.
The trips I’d planned, the things I had yet to accomplish will no longer matter.
They, like me, will be a thing of the past.
As will all my fears and insecurities. About myself, who I was, what I looked like, how the world perceived me. Every last ridiculous, superficial detail I had agonized over the course of my existence.
On the day I die I can finally stop pondering the great mysteries of the universe.
What lay ahead.
Whether I’m traveling north or south.
Who will grieve for me. Who will not give a damn.
The people who didn’t like me, will continue to dislike me. (What-ever!)
The people I impacted in some small way, through my words or deeds, perhaps will remember me.
The people who loved me will mourn my passing. And will continue to mourn for a long time to come. Because they’re the ones left behind. The friends, the family, the children and the grandchildren who must struggle to get beyond a wound that will never fully heal.
I want to believe that on the day I die I will leave this world pretty much the same way I entered it.
Kicking and screaming. Fists punching the air. Wanting more. One more day, one more hour, one more breath of this life I cherish.
I know how easy it is to get swept up in all the BS.
I know that inner peace is fluid and fragile.
That time is precious.
Love is joyous.
And that all those materialistic, unattainable things beyond my control will never give me that slice of happiness pie I’ve spent a lifetime searching for.
Yes, this is a truth that is inherent in all things.
Things that remind us everything has a beginning and an end.
How we spend them never more important. Yes, that’s the good stuff. The delicious frosting in the middle of the Oreo cookie.
So when that day does come — and it will for each of us — know only ONE thing matters … you’ve lived!
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Photo by Gabe Tomoiaga on Flickr-