This is (late) Essay #41 of The 52 Essay Challenge, a series in which I write a new (unpolished & messy) essay each week during 2017.
We all hear that: life is short. We hear it so often that it
becomes cliché and then we take it for granted. Which then defeats the whole
purpose of the message. The message of which is: tomorrow is never promised so
live the best way you know how every minute of every day that you are
breathing. When you first wake in the morning, when your brain is first turned
on but your eyes are still shut, give thanks for another day. Be grateful for
breath.
*
A year a half ago, my much-younger cousin died suddenly,
while speaking to her pastor after mass. She was only 23. She had dealt with a
heart arrhythmia for most of her life, but this was a shock to everyone. The
only child of my aunt and her husband.
*
Last month, my middle child’s classmate’s father died. He
had been sick so it wasn’t a shock, but still, loss is loss. For a
nine-year-old to lose her father is no less devastating.
*
This afternoon, I just spoke with a friend. Her daughter and
my oldest are close friends. She just told me that she has stage three breast
cancer; that she had started treatment is past Friday. She will undergo
chemotherapy for the next five months to shrink the cancerous masses and then
surgery to remove, hopefully, the rest. She is the second mother in my
daughter’s class to have been diagnosed. The statistics are 1 in 8 women. This
makes three women I’ve known in my life (the first was a woman whose son was in
preschool with my oldest).
*
Just the other day, I was asking myself: what would it be
like to know you were dying? Sure, we’re all dying – just some sooner than
others. But what would it be like to know when you were leaving this earth?
Most people would probably plan to live their last days as full as possible.
Others might grip tightly onto denial, fighting against the inevitable. I’d
like to think I’d be in the former camp. But more importantly, I’d like to
think that I’m the person who already lives life to the fullest every day that
when the time came, I wouldn’t be cramming my days, trying to check off my
bucket list because I’ve already done it.
To be honest though, I don’t think I really have a bucket
list. Nothing that I want to do so badly that I’d die happy after checking it
off my list. Climb Mt. Everest? Nah. I’m not really a mountain climber. A lot
of things are “would be nice” things. What does that say about me? That I’m
pretty content with my life, I think. I think.
Either that, or I’m just a simple person who doesn’t really know what kinds of
awesomeness are out there! Haha!
*
Every morning, on the days I teach, I walk across campus and
pass by a big old elm tree. Its massive branches and limbs create a big canopy
of leaves. Morning sunlight dappling through. On rainy days, it keeps me dry
for a few paces. Every morning, I say hello. If I’m lucky and there’s a branch
low enough, I reach up and touch a leaf to greet my tree. If I’m feeling
leisurely in my pace, I’ll stop by the trunk and touch the bark, send a little
love. But always, always I look up, smiling at my tree, saying hello, grateful
for its presence on my path. I don’t know why this particular tree out of all
the trees I see along the way, but for whatever reason, this elm is my tree.
*
What are you doing each day to celebrate life? What are you
doing each day to show gratitude for your breath? For the people who bless your
life? It doesn’t have to be magnanimous (though those are always fun! Both to
give and receive!). It can be simple as a heart in a text message. Or a smile.
Or a big fierce hug. Or the always awesome: “I love you”.
Guess what?
I love you.
<3
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