In an attempt to unwind, I recently watched a movie I thought would be light entertainment before I went to sleep. I was wrong. The overarching theme of the movie was: If you were given the opportunity to know that you would die in ten minutes, what would you have left to say to someone? Who would that someone be? What if your only means of communication was a handwritten note that’d be delivered after your passing? What would your message say?
At 2 a.m., I was still awake. I retrieved a pen and notepad from the nightstand and stared at a blank page finally writing one word. Minutes later something else appeared on the page: droplets. I put the notepad down, realizing I couldn’t add more than what was said and felt within each tear that covered one simple but a life-fulfilling word: Gratitude.
I wiped tears from my eyes, jotting down the steady stream of disjointed thoughts flashing through my mind. I hope I’ve left nothing unsaid or to question. I’ve poured love into my ‘whos’ without reservation for as long as I’ve been blessed to know them. I’ve had the joy and honor of loving family and friends, whether near or far, who were with me for a season or a lifetime. My love goes beyond our goodbyes.
Death, the ultimate goodbye, is a timestamp. But love, like spirit, is timeless. Upon my passing, my love will only grow deeper, wider, and stronger with Heaven’s eternal breath. My ‘whos’ will continue to find me not only within their very being but also in their views: butterflies on zinnias, my written words, a gentle spring rain, the smell of a summer afternoon, the taste of hot cocoa on a winter day, etc. I know my ‘whos’ will reunite with me in countless ways until the time our souls are joined together in Heaven.
Suffering the passing of a loved one is extremely painful, an unfortunate cost of truly loving; yet, I pay the cost knowing the price. Why? Because to love and be loved, to see and be seen, to laugh and to cry, to be silly and serious, quiet and moody, scared and hopeful, doubtful and confident—to be able to share and do life with someone is an honor—a true, pure honor, despite our many imperfections.
To love so deeply and genuinely knowing I’ll have someone to miss from soul to skin one day makes wanting to love them today all the more important. I vowed to be more loving and attentive, not leaving things left unsaid or to doubt. Before turning off the lamp, my thoughts metabolized into this insight: I’m ‘spirit’ –a soul. It’s the essential me. Fire can’t burn it, water can’t wet it, wind can’t dry it, and weapons can’t kill it. It, unlike life, is unbounded and nonchanging with no beginning or end. To my ‘whos’ I wrote: Acknowledge your spirit and live your life lovingly, soulfully, attentively, and with gratitude.
