“Mom, how do we know when our time here is done?”
My head snapped around and I looked at Briar, she looked back at me. Completely guileless, she waited for my answer. Heart in my throat I said, “Honey, I want you to worry less about when our time is up and more about what we do with the time we have.” She nodded and turned back to her writing.
“I won’t ever forget you, ya know. You are that kind of mom, the kind you don’t forget,” all of this said without her ever looking up at me.
There are times when I think I can’t do it, can’t keep myself from sobbing and clutching them in my arms and gasping for just one more breath.
I try to keep the pace of my life going in a way that helps me think less about Briar’s question. Last night my mom posted on my wall after I’d given a status update about date night.
“Do enjoy each other. Tim died last night.”
My heart sank. She had described to me the way he had spent his last months. Deliberately slowing down, inhaling the vibrance of his family, and saying the kinds of goodbyes that can come from a life that would inspire novels.
She has used words like grace and courage to describe the way Tim’s family has approached his battle with cancer. It’s something I find both humbling and inspiring. I hope that in those gutting moments when I hear of someone’s passing, I will be able to look at my life and know with confidence that I am making the most of my time.
Today I send my thoughts to Tim’s family and friends. His passing, as was the case with his living, touched us all in an unforgettable way. It was a privilege to know him and it is a gift to see life with new eyes.
Go live and love. Now.