The Nitty-Gritty of Facing Death

AS I WENT IN SEARCH of potential treatments and consulted with specialists, I remained aware—even though I didn’t always talk about it—that I had only a few months to live.

ONCE AN ADMITTED “CLOTHES HORSE,” I couldn’t bring myself to buy new clothing. So, in spite of the fact that my wardrobe would now do someone thirty pounds heavier better justice than it did me, I bypassed the sales racks that would have lured me to several moment’s browsing in the past. Why should I want something that I would only be able to wear when it turned warm again?

SHOPPING FOCUSED on groceries and home repair. Things that could be consumed within three months were all that interested me.

WHEN A CAR HAD TO BE REPLACED, I insisted it be registered in Tom’s name. I gave away my wool business suits to a teacher colleague of my step-daughter’s. I made a list of all my belongings and put beside each one the name of the person I thought might want it. I was erasing ownership from my life. The burden of guessing what I’d want done with my possessions would not be on Tom.

I MADE A LIST OF THE MUSIC I wanted played at my memorial, and a list of the casseroles I planned to freeze for Tom so he wouldn’t have to go hungry while adjusting to life without me. I openly agonized over whether I wanted science or the crematorium to have my body.

TOM SEEMED TO BE WONDERING where his old wife had gone.

WELL, I WAS BURYING HER to give rise to the new me that has since taken her place.

I’M A WOMAN WHO FINDS HERSELF ON THE WINDING ROAD of living for today. Of observing the little gems of beauty and serenity I raced past in my former life. Of giving up worrying about things I can’t do anything about. Of believing God and what He says. Of looking at where I’ve come from more often than where I might have to go.

NOW I RUN THROUGH THE LEAVES with my grandson when I used to worry about getting mud on my shoes. How odd that now when logic tells me my future may be very short, I have learned to bask in time. To take what pleasure I can from each moment. I no longer look for what is wrong as much as I look for what is right.

TODAY I RARELY STAND on the front of the boat peering at the troubled waters I may have to enter. I spend more time contemplating the wake and relishing a sense of the small joyful accomplishments—like a freshly cleaned kitchen or a dryer of warm towels—that in my former life I missed altogether.

You’re blessed. Be a blessing!