Sounds like a soap opera doesn’t it? What would I do if I knew I had one more day to live. In reality, I should live as if that were true. One day it will be.
So, tomorrow evening it’s curtains. What shall I do with the day?
When I wake up, assuming I was able to get to sleep the night before, I think I would want to go snuggle with Paul.
However, knowing tomorrow was my last day, hopefully we slept together. Maybe he didn’t snore because it’s a special occasion.
Some things never change. I get up early and feed the animals. I love on them more than usual.
The weather, a walk?
I guess I would choose a day in very late fall or early winter to be my last. I love chilly weather and am not a big fan of sun. Would prefer some rain clouds possibly. So maybe that’s the type of day I’ll have.
As I eat my last breakfast of as many as I want mini chocolate doughnuts, I ponder whether a walk would be nice. Fill the lungs with fresh, crisp air.
Nah, I don’t think so. I have been tired of walking for years, why mess up my last day with exercise.
How much alone time?
Being the solitude I consider myself, how much time would I like to spend with people on this day?
Logic dictates I would spend every second with Paul, although this might prove too smothering for the both of us.
In my heart I can’t see it any other way. After all, he is my life.
I suppose we would go out for lunch. Would we go to an old haunt or something grander? We’re simple. We go to Atlanta Bread Company. It’s great. We both love it.
Or, on second thought, should we have gone to Los Bravos, another great favorite? I realize it doesn’t matter.
The day is flying by.
I would have an open house type of celebration. Just an hour or so. Nothing fancy or extravagant. Not a ”living funeral” like Morrie had in Tuesdays With Morrie by Mitch Albom.
I like the concept, but for me it feels too ”organized” to be a casual occasion in our home.
If people got up and spoke of all the fun times and foolish things we had done while knowing each other, it might be too much for me.
Remembering stories and saying goodbye would be too sad. I don’t aim for this day to be filled with teardrops.
Depending on how chilly the weather, we would be on the porch. This sounds nice. Maybe we’re all wrapped up in colorful throws and woolen blankets and bumping up against each other.
Yes, I’m expecting a crowd. Ha! Ha! But if you’d like to come say See ya later, I would love that. Sincerely.
Hot chocolate and Red Zinger tea and coffee. Oatmeal-raisin cookies. Maybe mini ice cream sandwiches. Paul would want peanuts at hand.
A glass of champagne might be nice. Just one glass. Don’t want to get blitzed, although that might not be a bad idea.
People will say they’ll miss me. They enjoyed knowing me. “We’ll be thinking about Paul.” ”We know he’ll take good care of your furry family.”
At least, I hope they would be saying things like this. I want a calm and peaceful day. Just a day to be.
If this could happen in real, wouldn’t it be interesting to know who would come to see you off?
I wonder if some quasi estranged family members/friends would show up. Does it really matter in the grand design of things? Of course not.
I don’t harbor resentments but I think about people who do. I wonder in a casual setting such as this, or in real life, whether people could let go of their resentment long enough to say Bye or would they just go about their day.
Something tells me I would like to do some art or writing. I could write my obituary. ”They” say this is something you should do as a matter of course during your lifetime.
Imagine a journal filled with obituaries you have maintained through the years. I was going to make a joke of this, but now that I think about it, ”they” may be on to something.
I think I’d like to do one final Fiddle Faddle. A beach scene would be nice. Maybe I could find a suitable place where I could draw in Bruno.
I don’t think I’ve ever seen a cat on the beach. Have you?
In the background throughout the day, I would play faintly Mozart’s Greatest Hits and Enya.
My cousin, Jimmy, once said, ”Who knew Mozart had Greatest Hits?” That was the name of the album I had just purchased. We all got a good chuckle out of that.
Once I had an assignment when I was a legal secretary. It was a small- to mid-sized firm. I was a temp.
I wasn’t working in the Estate Planning section. I was, however, working for a female lawyer who was getting her will in order.
She was attractive. Blonde. Dressed to the nines. I remember her as being nice.
But what I remember most is a desire she wanted to be sure and have in her will. She wanted to be buried in her gold lame slippers.
Far be it for me to judge. It’s her life. Whatever makes her happy — I’m all in. It just caused me to wonder what unique wishes people put in their wills. Would make an interesting book. One is probably already out there.
I don’t know why I have retained this piece of trivia. It has made me wonder whether there is some specific desire I may have along those lines.
I mean it’s one thing to put it in your will. It is something else if done just naturally as part of the process. My father-in-law has his favorite and much-loved toboggan beside him. Just of the moment, nothing officially planned.
I am being cremated so options are limited. It might have to be a piece of paper or fabric or sheet of music or something like that.
Maybe a favorite handkerchief or scarf. Possibly a poem or the lyrics to a Dylan song I particularly like.
All of a sudden, I have options. That’s nice.
Well, I’ve been wondering what to do about supper. This calls for more than a bowl of Chex cereal. More than salted caramel peanut spread on a blueberry bagel.
It has to be special. It has to be someplace Paul likes. We’ll go to Williamson Brothers BBQ. Paul loves it there. I’m not a big fan. And that’s the point.
I want him to remember our last supper as someplace he liked to eat. I want him to smile when he thinks about the last time and all the previous times we ate there.
So it is
My day has come to an end. There will be no more.
I put on my favorite pajamas — a t-shirt and cotton bottoms. The soft blue t-shirt that has Michelangelo’s Pieta on it. Black cotton bottoms and my new black and white polka dotted socks.
I’m nestled in my bed and snuggled up close with Paul. It was the right thing to do spending the entire day with him. I would have been lost otherwise.
I close my eyes and hope I fall asleep easily. Then I realize this won’t be a problem. I have been told today is my last.
The curtains are being drawn. I feel the angel sprinkles float across my face and land.
Paul, you have made my life so full and worth living. Thank you for loving me. And then the Universe extends her hand.
Thank you so much for reading. All comments are welcome.