Saturday, August 9, 2008
On Borrowed Time
I've been thinking a lot about death today. My death in particular. Well, actually that's not true. I've been thinking a lot about my life. It's funny that I'm learning along this journey that for every thought, there is an opposing thought which resonates within me. Therefore, death makes me think about life. I was thinking about my mom's death tonight and how on that last night, as we all gathered around her, what her life represented, and if she had been aware that it was the end, would she have been content with how she had spent her time here. I don't think it really matters if someone wins the Nobel Prize, works at Taco Bell all their life, or is a hobo, hopping from train to train, as long as they are fulfilling their dreams and making themselves truly happy. My mom used to always say that we're all on borrowed time and how true that is. I've never realized it more until recently. I was watching my dog Griffin the other day. If it's sunny, he likes to sleep in the window, the sun on his back, warming him. If it's raining, he likes to sleep on his chair, or hidden underneath my comforter on my bed if I allow him. Recently, he's been scurrying under the bed while I sleep and I can feel him under there messing around. But I looked at him and I said, "Griffin, all you do is sleep all day." He perked his little head up and looked at me. I had already taken him out about ten times that day, and I wasn't taking him out any time soon. He looked at me for a second and fell back on his side, sighing. "Yeah, I guess if I could just sleep all day, I might." I said and walked away. He cracks me up. Sometimes I put on "Finding Nemo" or "Charlotte's Web" because he likes the sounds of the characters. And that makes him happy. He's content. Really content. So maybe I don't need to win the Nobel Prize, but I also don't want to sleep all day like Griffin. Quite frankly, he doesn't have a lot of options. So today, I've been thinking a lot about what things I want to still achieve in my life and if I suddenly found myself on my deathbed, would I be content with how things had ended. Because, it really was that sudden for my mom. One day she was walking up the hills of the Smoky Mountains and two months later she was in a hospital bed until the day she died. I'm not sure what I want to do. I know I need to finish my book. I would not be ok if I didn't complete that part of my journey. But past that, I think I really just want to make a comfortable home, eat great food, smoke some cigarettes with friends, drink black coffee while standing watching the rain, laughing and crying with friends, having more late night talks on patios, developing strong relationships and memories, and reading some really great books. Well, and probably finding out how the hell Lost is going to end, if it ever does. But past that, I think I'll be ok. I think I could die and feel content that I had lived an awesome life. To me, people and relationships make the difference. I had a friend tell me tonight that he had never been in love. Another friend told me last week that she thought the statement, "better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all" was crap. Both make me sad. I've loved. I've lost. And I've won. It's all part of the journey and I wouldn't trade any of it in. Not one damn second. I've had some awesome times and if something comes to an end, as much as I hate it, well, that's how it goes. I'm on borrowed time anyway and I better make the most of it. It's kind of like being at the fair and realizing it closes in an hour and trying to fit all the things in one last time before it ends. Well, I just want to walk down that main street, eating a bag of kettle corn, sipping a fountain coke, laughing and smelling the corn dogs and hearing the kids ride the rides. I just want to have been there and experienced it at whatever cost. I don't mind losing sometimes. That's all part of it. You can't borrow something...without having to give it back eventually anyway.
Posted by The Secret Keeper at 11:48 PM