What would you do if you found out you had one year left to live, non-negotiable?
Would you smother your children and family with so much love that they scrambled away from you?
Would you make amends and repair broken relationships, or would you let things lie?
Would you plead and bargain for more time?
At the end of every day, would you cry, knowing you would not see that date again?
Would you cherish every hot, humid summer day and every blizzard?
Would you eschew all uncomfortable clothing and only eat and drink your favorite foods and beverages? (I, for one, would never again let American cheese, pork, or Chardonnay pass my lips.)
Would you spend any of that time cleaning floors or dusting?
Would you finally take that dream vacation and have fresh flowers in the house every day?
Would you ever spend another minute in a crowded price-club warehouse to save a few bucks on raw chicken?
What would you pass along to your children? Recipes, stories, heirlooms? Wisdom, wishes for their future?
Would it break your heart every single time you had to tell a loved one about your imminent expiration?
Would you try to plan for other people to take care of those closest to you?
Would you devote all your remaining time to caring for those less fortunate?
Would you write letters for those closest to you to read a year from now, five years from now?
Would you withdraw and stay in bed?
Life is short. We use words like “forever,” but we are mortal. We can be snatched away from each other at any time, without warning. Would you be satisfied with the life you had? How would you want friends and family to remember you? And how would you want to remember others if they were suddenly gone?
