1 July 2023
How did we get here already? Just last night, Keira said something about something happening on the 17th, and I was like, “Of June, right? Not July…” and the whole family was like, “Mom, July starts tomorrow—July, not June,” and I nearly cried. Actually, I cackled like a witch.
A reel on my feed this morning, saying, “Imagine yourself on your deathbed. There will be no tomorrows. There will be no more sunsets or sunrises, no more trees overhead and grass beneath your feet. But imagine that a white shining angel shows up and offers you to go back into your life…back to today. How would you change the way you are living?”
And it’s not about the way that I’m currently living so much as it is about that day on my deathbed. My mind went directly to the tiny little miracles I’d still be seeking to enjoy at that moment of my own passing. Will there be anyone there who still loves me? What does that person’s voice sound like? What does their touch feel like? Can I have some coffee? How does it taste? Is there sun coming in my window, at a slant, through colored glass? In what colors does it fall on the hardwood floor…how do the reds fade to rose? How do the emeralds fade to lime—depending on the strength of the sun in each refraction? Don’t tell me in that moment there is nothing left to be had, because that’s a lie. It’s a lie. There is always something to be had from life, even down to my very last breath…and even as that last breath fades, there is still the breath itself until the breath exists no more. Even then, I know that what was once me will reunite with all the beauty that is this universe…or perhaps, it will just shift shape, because it was always a part of it, never apart from it, and even in this is something worthy of worship.
~meg v