Sitting out side her room she suddenly bagan to cry. Not just any cry, it was a whole body shaking cry. I jumped up to see what was causing her such anguish.
Me: "Are you ok, Mrs. Kimble?"
Me: "Are you hurting?"
Me: "Why are you crying?"
Her: "Why do I have to live like this?"
Me: quickly trying to think of something appropriate to say to a dieing 90 year old woman. . .
Me: I gently put her hand in mine. . "I am so sorry, I wish I could make it better. Is there
something I can do for you?"
Her: beginning to go from hysterical cry to hysterical laugh
Her: "Yes there is"
Me: "What is it you would like?"
Her: "A new body!" as she is giggling
Me: "Ok then, I will call Sears and put one on special order, how old would you like it to be?"
Her: "Ummm, how about 50, that was my best years."
Me: "Consider it done. I will call right away and ask for expedited shipping"
Her: "You might want to order three."
Me: "Why is that? One for you one for me and a spare to put in the closet?"
Her: laughing again. . ."You are really funny! I think I want to go to sleep now."
She was 90 years old, actively dying, she was scared and woke up from a deep sleep. She then couldn't go back to sleep, instead she lay in bed thinking back over her life at all the had accomplished and all she had yet to accomplish. All she had loved and those she wished she had loved better. She was in her final chapters. This was it, had she lived it best? Had she fullfilled her "bucket list"? Did she have regrets? Was there that "just one more thing" that she wished she had done?
It is interesting to me who people see their lives when they are at this moment. Waiting on death. Waiting to leave this world, leave their bodies and go to someplace better. Someplace we have heard about but have never seen. It is at this moment when people start realizing how messed up their priorities were.
What was important?
Was it the job that took them to the top? Is that how people knew them? Was it because you were president of the PTO and attended ALL the funtions at the school and hid behind your child's identity? Was it your financial status? Were you the one with your name posted all over every charity in town? Is that was defined your life?
Or. . .
Was it that you were kind, gentle, loving. That you gave to others wholeheartedly without expectation. Was it that you chose to spend special days with your children even if they are grown showing them you love them by giving of your time instead of with gifts and money? Are you the person who will go out of their way to help a friend, to listen to a stranger who is standing in the grocery store and just needed someone to talk to for 5 minutes? Was it important that that you were a relection of the love of God? How important was it that people in your life new how important YOU were?
This time will come for all of us. Who will you be? Is there still time to make each moment count? Is there still time to show the people who are most special to you, how much you love them. Is there still time, for you, to change your priorities and put what really counts first?
Only you know those answers. . . . this is your time to reflect. Make each moment count, make each day count. Because when it is your turn to be 90 years old, who will be holding your hand ordering you a new body? Hopefully, you have people in your life that love you enough to hold your hand through the end, no matter how long from now that is.
There is ALWAYS time!