If I Knew When and How I’d Take My Last Breath
I wouldn’t have a bucket list of things I’d want to do, only some things I’d like to say.
I am not dying. At least, no more than we are all dying. No one lives forever.
But, I often think about death — my relationship with the subject forged by multiple traumas, a complicated medical history, and compounding mental health disorders.
I have always been keenly aware of death’s inevitability. Even as a child.
So, I am not thinking about this — writing this — because I believe I will die soon, only because I know I will die eventually. To me, it feels just as likely to be tomorrow as it does to be 58 years from now — and even more likely to fall on some unassuming day in between those two points.
If I were to know when and how I’d take my last breath, I wouldn’t have a bucket list of things I’d want to do before that date. I wouldn’t care about the places I never got to see or that I never went scuba diving or parachuting. All I’d really want is to make sure the people I love felt loved by me, knew my love for them without question or doubt, and felt capable of carrying my love for them forward into the rest of their lives after I’m gone.
I’d want to make it easier for my…
