We wandered into some emotional waters,and something that's been on my mind for some time, but I rarely talk about it with anyone. It's one of those demons that hides in the shadows. It was a dark and light discussion about end of life conversations and the role they play for us in our sense of peace when we have to go and leave it all behind. More than once, I had tears well up that wanted to escape, and my breath caught in my throat at the thought of it all.
Without getting into any unnecessary detail, I was filled with an image of this person, struggling with the end of their life, having to say good bye, and needing to hear that it was okay (or as okay as it could be), and having absolutely no idea how to facilitate what that need was for them. I, for a brief moment, put myself in that bed, in that illness, in that time, staring into the eyes of people who were silently begging me not to go, but knowing there was no more control for me in this ill fate. I was devastated, and terrified, and so incredibly sad, I pictured the one on one time I would have to spend with my children, my parents, and the love of my life saying all the things I know they would need to hear, and all of the things I would have to say. My soul cried. It cried for necessity, it cried for love, it cried for grace.
It stuck with me all night, and I woke up with it still ominous and present. And perhaps what is urgent with me is the question of do I want to wait until there is no time left to say what needs to be heard? What if there was no more time? Would those people know exactly the things I held inside my soul for them? Do I need to be in a place that threatens my time to make sure I know everyone is complete, and that I am whole?
No.
So, I decided. It's time to get on my soapbox. It's time to say all those things that people will remember, and hopefully, smile. It is in these days of wonder, where I am healthy and young, and vibrant (oh by the way I plan on being young and healthy and vibrant at 103), that everyone will know exactly how they have touched my soul.
My children should never wonder if I am proud of them, or if they did everything just right. My kids should never long for more time with me, and if they have, shame on me, and now is the time to lay with them and actively listen to their words, and feel their warmth as they hug me. My friends should not go away from me wondering if we should have hugged one last time, or if that conversation was fulfilling enough to last them if it should have to, In this time, where I am blessed with time with my parents, let me be grateful and vocal with my love for them and for every single moment. Let me take in their wisdom and hear them when they teach me. Trap those memories and share them. Take time and don't be too busy, or too tired, or too grown up. Don't ever let tomorrow be the day where I wished I'd have said "I love you" one more time.
And oh that love of mine... in a time where we have just found one another, does he know? Does he know just how elated my soul is when he is near, and how it reaches for him even while he lays quietly with me at night? Is he sure that there has never been, nor will there ever be again, another human that has shown me the kind of love that he has brought into my life. Does he know the smile he loves is one he created? May he never get to the end of the day questioning just how grateful I am for his soul, and I will never leave that sacred space we share where time is irrelevant and love knows no boundaries.
I am on my soap box today and everyday. I promise, I am not waiting until there is no time left. When I tell my people I love them, and thank them for sharing my time on Earth, it will not be with fear of what time is left, but of grace, that I have made every effort to share part of me with them...with you.
Get on your soapbox. I love you.
