Living Just That Long

I lately had a revelation: I'm going to die, and it may not be that far off. My kidneys are getting cranky. I'm losing strength and my mind has trouble remembering things--many things. When one views mortality from such a short distance it makes you wince; you realize how few choices remain. You had many at one time. They were almost limitless. Your choices could take you anywhere and make you anything. Now, you are rigid and fixed. Your path is locked in and you merely trudge from one fragile step to the next.

Oh, I don't mean to be so pessimistic, but there isn't a great deal of hope for the future. My future, anyway. Those beautiful dreams are perched on the edge of a black hole, waiting to be sucked into the eddy of time. I'm not saying I have no future, but I just realized how few grains of sand remain in the hourglass. And the most mind-numbing thought of all? There isn't much to be done for it.

Action is required--especially now! I'm immersed in a novel at present. I thought I was nearly finished, but I discovered that the book needs to be completely revised into three parts in order to flush out the characters and develop the theme. Will I have time to complete it? I don't know the answer. I know it appears futile to be rushing around at this late date. Seems like this ought to be a time for relaxation and reflection, for taking inventory of one's life and reviewing one's relationships with others around him.

Why do I even think finishing the book is all that important? I may be misguided, but I truly believe that it's important to leave something behind that can be given to others to discover the essence of one fully human being. To set in words what wisdom you were able to gather in one lifetime and to warn of the traps and missteps you were unable to avoid. In the end, that is the best we can do. Making the path of another lighter than mine fills my days. It makes them important and relevant. Even so, one wonders just how much my pitiful words can reshape someone's future. That is a lot to ask. I know how rare it is because those moments have occurred so infrequently in my own life.

Reading a book that that clarifies humanity or watching a film that enlightens me have been my most precious moments on Earth. They are what I live for. They are what I want to pass on to others. Surviving in a dysfunctional household has been my one opus of distinction. My works on that one subject give me a sense of purpose. I want to finish those thoughts. I want to give them to the world whether the world wants them or rejects them. At some point, I figure they will be important, and if they can guide only one or a few folks to a brighter future, then I am happy.

I guess we all fear dying too soon. Not many individuals will die peacefully having satisfactorily fulfilled his or her obligations to posterity. I don't desire riches or fame, I really don't. I simply want to reach the end of my life knowing I handed down a promise. THE promise I was gifted in order to extend it to others. Please allow me to live that long.

“I don’t know what I am. I don’t know if I am or not.”

- William Faulkner As I Lay Dying