Live for today, hope for tomorrow, love with all your heart

*This post was a challenge to write. It delves into some deep personal territory, but I have come to find that as we age and begin to lose people in our lives, the reality of our mortality becomes quite profound. While I could have easily opted not to share my feelings on the subject, I have chosen to be courageous and put my emotions and thoughts on the pages of this blog, my personal space. As someone who often writes to work through her emotions, I thank you for reading and for not being too critical of what you find here.


Life is too short. I was reminded of this fact again today by the passing of an acquaintance of mine. He wasn't someone I knew well but a few of my friends did. One of them was his best friend, and my heart aches for her, as he passed away suddenly and unexpectedly after suffering a heart attack while driving. In addition to the fact that his death was brought about by a heart related event, he was not that much older than me, and I will be 29 next month.

The truth is we don't know what lies around the corner. Good, bad, or indifferent, the future is largely unknown to us. While that can be an exciting prospect, it is sobering as well. We would all desperately like to believe that we have control over what will become of us and to some extent, we do: each day is full of conscious choices to be made that direct us on our life's path. But there are some things we simply cannot {and should not} foresee and thus cannot prepare for. All we can do is try to accept that fact, that lack of control, and not dwell on it. All that we can be sure of is this moment before us, the here and the now, the today.

I've struggled with this reality for many years, well before my heart surgery three years ago. The finality of death truly struck me when my grandfather passed away November 15, 2002. I was 18, and had just moved away to college. He was a daily fixture in my life and the idea that I would never again see his face in this life affected me in a deeply profound way. I began to question where we go after we die. I have grown up believing in Heaven but the "what if's" began creeping in. What if there wasn't any such thing as Heaven after all? What if, after you die, that's it, you're just gone? One day you're a functioning member of society with a life, family, friends, memories, hopes and dreams, goals, struggles, triumphs, failures, etc and the next, nothing? How could that be? What would that be like? Some people would say it doesn't matter because either way, you're gone so you won't know the difference, but the thought terrified me and still does. I've become quite accustomed to me.

After my grandpa died, I went to a few counseling sessions to further discuss and explore my fear of death, and work through the loss and sadness I felt. I was nervous about going, about sharing openly with a stranger who made notes as I talked. I was afraid they'd judge me, even though they're "not supposed to," and I didn't want to cry in front of someone I didn't know. It was during these few sessions that I was told something that really stuck with me. Based upon what I had shared with her, she said she felt I was profoundly aware of my own existence, that I didn't take being alive for granted, and that I was keenly aware of my own personhood. The best way I can explain this to you, the reader, is that I have moments of realization that are almost outside of myself, when I am awestruck by the fact that I am here, that I have thoughts that are mine alone, memories that exist in my brain alone. Sometimes, I'll be overcome by the sense that I am looking at this world through my own set of eyes, comprehending as only I can, and experiencing this life I live as uniquely MINE. No one else will ever walk this path as I have. This may sound crazy, odd, whatever, but there you have it. And it is the idea of losing my reality, my consciousness, that rattles me to the core. I cannot fathom not having thoughts, of not waking up in the morning and being ME. I like me, I'm used to me, I'm with me all the time. Sometimes I frustrate myself, sometimes I find myself or my actions disappointing, but all that I do is part of my journey, part of who I am and what legacy I leave behind. I know this. I am thankful for it. And it's frightening to me beyond words that one day, (and mercifully I don't know when) I will cease to be.

I know that many people share my fear, but perhaps they're not as willing to say so or discuss it. I'm not ashamed, although I am a bit self-conscious people will find it odd that I think about this sort of thing -- but that's ok. I've always been a deep thinker and have been described as an old soul. At any rate, a resolution of mine this year is to live for today, hope for tomorrow, and love with all my heart. Life is precious and sometimes, far too often, over far too soon. I want to enjoy my life, embrace it for all its up's and down's, be a good wife and partner, a good daughter and friend, and accept what I cannot change or foresee because, as my beloved grandmother always said, "Whatever will be, will be" and there is no sense worrying about something I really have no control over. As is the way with worry, it only robs today of its joy and I cannot allow that to happen when there is so much joy to be relished. I owe it not only to myself, but to the people I've known who no longer have another day ahead of them. I owe it to them to be grateful and content in my life, because I am blessed. Each day that I am gifted, no matter how trying, is just that: a gift.

"Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?" -- Mary Oliver, The Summer Day