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What would you do next week if it was the last week of your life?
The thought of death carries an enormous power.
The power of perspective...
The power of change. It's final quality opens room for renewed life thoughts.
Honestly, it makes sense. You wake up every morning and never think of the possibility that perhaps you may not come back home that day. The blue screen of nothingness..One day a dear one dies. It shakes you for a few days and soon you forget and continue walking life with the immortal pace.
What would happen if you thought about it more often. How would your actions change...the last week of your life.
My dear friend Sharon sent me a birthday present. A chronicle of the last week of her father on this earth. A gift to start this conversation. I couldn't think of anybody else or a better story to start the forum.
Her father died on my birthday, March 9th of 2005.
This is the anniversary of his last week with us. Don't miss it. A celebration of the life and death of a human being passing the torch.
Here it goes:
Subject: next week
To Luz With Love on her Birthday,
In response to the ?-theme: If next week were your last week on earth what would you plan and do. This is what my Dad did with his last week. He died 3/9/05. He died on a Thursday, I'll begin on Wednesday night.
On Wednesday night Dad went dancing. He danced regularly for more than 50 yrs. He went to a handful of dancing and social clubs. He waltzed, polkaed, fox trotted etc. One friend and dance partner said, "Your Dad was a graceful man and a wonderful dancer." Those are the facts, these are the things I can infer from my own experience. He showered and shaved, slowly and carefully. He dressed in a crisp suit and tie and then he buffed his dancing shoes.
On Thursday Dad had a first date with a woman named Connie. Over the previous Christmas his late relationship had broken up, and Dad was ready to start dating again. On the phone Connie said, "When your Dad kissed me I felt it to my toes." My Dad loved women and after his wife died in 1995, he went on to have an active dating life.
On Friday, Dad got in the car and drove 200 or so miles to see his old and dear friend Woody. He and Woody had worked together for more than 30 years. Woody's wife Marilyn told me that Dad had said, "We should find a way to see each other more often, I really miss you guys." After a nice breakfast, Dad drove home Saturday morning.
Sunday I have no information about what Dad did, but I can infer a lot because Dad was a creature of habit. He got up around 8:30 and ate a bowl of Raisin Bran, just like everday for as long as I can remember. He opened his curtains and looked out at the day. He sat in his favorite Lazy Boy Recliner and enjoyed the peace and quiet of his own house. He took some lunch at one of the local eateries, lunch was his big meal of the day. He took a short nap. He whistled a tune. He snapped his fingers to punctuate a random thought. He laughed out loud at something, watched the squirrels and birds. He tried to think of one thing constructive he could do that day and then did it. I think he balanced his checkbook to the penny,(every month of his life) but it could have been another day. I do know the paper in his adding machine said 918.36, this was less than 10.00 off his balance when we did his books. He went to bed around 11:00 and slept well and long, as he always did.
On Monday he had a big job. His sewer pipe needed to be replaced, and so he was out in the yard keeping an eye on the installers. They were threading a new pipe right under Dad's favorite tree (he'd planted it himself in 1975). Unable to do this work himself, he would have watched everything they did like a hawk. My Dad would endure days of do-it-yourself hell rather than call a plumber. This necessary evil would cost more than $4200.00. In the late afternoon he went to the ace hardware, where he commisserated with a friend about plumbers and having one's lawn dug up. He bought 6 screws, 3 rubber bushings, and 8 hose washers for 3.16. Then he went down south to a pawn shop that just so happened to be along my sisters regular path. My sister saw his car in the parking lot and stopped to say hi. An impromtu supper was planned and they got some grub.
Tuesday had the same plumbers in the yard, and the same vigil of keeping an eye on everything they did, 'til they packed it in. In the afternoon he went to one of his rental houses because the pipes weren't draining properly. My sister's friend rented this house and so she( my sister) showed up while Dad was on the roof snaking out the drain. She scolded Dad about climbing onto roofs and added, "Just hire someone." He was afterall on blood thinners and even small injuries could be life threatening. I know he never considered that the roof would be dangerous, he'd been up on house roofs doing stuff for years. And besides, he was thinking, "I'm not paying a cent for plumbing that I can do myself."
On Wednesday, more sewer pipe installation. Dad was personable and people always liked him. Working men would find out pretty quick that Dad knew a lot and had skills of his own. He had a very attractive quality of confidence in himself and in his abilities. They covered over the trench, leaving a long scar of naked soil from the brick wall of the house to the street. He took his last meal at Long John Silver's, got some fish & chips (a favorite of his late wife's) took it home and ate alone.
He died sometime between 10:00am and noon on Thursday, March 9, 2005. He was 71 years old.
On his fridge was a clipping form the paper that said, If you're to be remembered, Say something worth writing or write something worth reading. Dad also said to me not long before he died, "Have some fun, that's what I've done.">
I remember my Dad with the vividness of love, tenderness and graditude. Sometimes when I'm washing my hands I'll see him. He's washing his hands, slowly, deliberately and thouroughly.
IF NEXT WEEK WERE MY LAST: I would
Buff up my dancing shoes
give someone a great kiss
visit my old and dear friend
endeavor to run into my child by accident
take care of the home I love
chat with my favorite checkout person at the grocery
sit in a good chair in the peace and quiet of my home and enjoy my contentments
and whistle.
Just like my Dad. Yours, Sharon 3/4/2005
Now, think about it and come up with the chronicle threaded with the story of your last week. It could be the blueprint for the beginning of your new life.Give it some consideration and share.I can't wait. Thanks!
The power of perspective...
The power of change. It's final quality opens room for renewed life thoughts.
Honestly, it makes sense. You wake up every morning and never think of the possibility that perhaps you may not come back home that day. The blue screen of nothingness..One day a dear one dies. It shakes you for a few days and soon you forget and continue walking life with the immortal pace.
What would happen if you thought about it more often. How would your actions change...the last week of your life.
My dear friend Sharon sent me a birthday present. A chronicle of the last week of her father on this earth. A gift to start this conversation. I couldn't think of anybody else or a better story to start the forum.
Her father died on my birthday, March 9th of 2005.
This is the anniversary of his last week with us. Don't miss it. A celebration of the life and death of a human being passing the torch.
Here it goes:
Subject: next week
To Luz With Love on her Birthday,
In response to the ?-theme: If next week were your last week on earth what would you plan and do. This is what my Dad did with his last week. He died 3/9/05. He died on a Thursday, I'll begin on Wednesday night.
On Wednesday night Dad went dancing. He danced regularly for more than 50 yrs. He went to a handful of dancing and social clubs. He waltzed, polkaed, fox trotted etc. One friend and dance partner said, "Your Dad was a graceful man and a wonderful dancer." Those are the facts, these are the things I can infer from my own experience. He showered and shaved, slowly and carefully. He dressed in a crisp suit and tie and then he buffed his dancing shoes.
On Thursday Dad had a first date with a woman named Connie. Over the previous Christmas his late relationship had broken up, and Dad was ready to start dating again. On the phone Connie said, "When your Dad kissed me I felt it to my toes." My Dad loved women and after his wife died in 1995, he went on to have an active dating life.
On Friday, Dad got in the car and drove 200 or so miles to see his old and dear friend Woody. He and Woody had worked together for more than 30 years. Woody's wife Marilyn told me that Dad had said, "We should find a way to see each other more often, I really miss you guys." After a nice breakfast, Dad drove home Saturday morning.
Sunday I have no information about what Dad did, but I can infer a lot because Dad was a creature of habit. He got up around 8:30 and ate a bowl of Raisin Bran, just like everday for as long as I can remember. He opened his curtains and looked out at the day. He sat in his favorite Lazy Boy Recliner and enjoyed the peace and quiet of his own house. He took some lunch at one of the local eateries, lunch was his big meal of the day. He took a short nap. He whistled a tune. He snapped his fingers to punctuate a random thought. He laughed out loud at something, watched the squirrels and birds. He tried to think of one thing constructive he could do that day and then did it. I think he balanced his checkbook to the penny,(every month of his life) but it could have been another day. I do know the paper in his adding machine said 918.36, this was less than 10.00 off his balance when we did his books. He went to bed around 11:00 and slept well and long, as he always did.
On Monday he had a big job. His sewer pipe needed to be replaced, and so he was out in the yard keeping an eye on the installers. They were threading a new pipe right under Dad's favorite tree (he'd planted it himself in 1975). Unable to do this work himself, he would have watched everything they did like a hawk. My Dad would endure days of do-it-yourself hell rather than call a plumber. This necessary evil would cost more than $4200.00. In the late afternoon he went to the ace hardware, where he commisserated with a friend about plumbers and having one's lawn dug up. He bought 6 screws, 3 rubber bushings, and 8 hose washers for 3.16. Then he went down south to a pawn shop that just so happened to be along my sisters regular path. My sister saw his car in the parking lot and stopped to say hi. An impromtu supper was planned and they got some grub.
Tuesday had the same plumbers in the yard, and the same vigil of keeping an eye on everything they did, 'til they packed it in. In the afternoon he went to one of his rental houses because the pipes weren't draining properly. My sister's friend rented this house and so she( my sister) showed up while Dad was on the roof snaking out the drain. She scolded Dad about climbing onto roofs and added, "Just hire someone." He was afterall on blood thinners and even small injuries could be life threatening. I know he never considered that the roof would be dangerous, he'd been up on house roofs doing stuff for years. And besides, he was thinking, "I'm not paying a cent for plumbing that I can do myself."
On Wednesday, more sewer pipe installation. Dad was personable and people always liked him. Working men would find out pretty quick that Dad knew a lot and had skills of his own. He had a very attractive quality of confidence in himself and in his abilities. They covered over the trench, leaving a long scar of naked soil from the brick wall of the house to the street. He took his last meal at Long John Silver's, got some fish & chips (a favorite of his late wife's) took it home and ate alone.
He died sometime between 10:00am and noon on Thursday, March 9, 2005. He was 71 years old.
On his fridge was a clipping form the paper that said, If you're to be remembered, Say something worth writing or write something worth reading. Dad also said to me not long before he died, "Have some fun, that's what I've done.">
I remember my Dad with the vividness of love, tenderness and graditude. Sometimes when I'm washing my hands I'll see him. He's washing his hands, slowly, deliberately and thouroughly.
IF NEXT WEEK WERE MY LAST: I would
Buff up my dancing shoes
give someone a great kiss
visit my old and dear friend
endeavor to run into my child by accident
take care of the home I love
chat with my favorite checkout person at the grocery
sit in a good chair in the peace and quiet of my home and enjoy my contentments
and whistle.
Just like my Dad. Yours, Sharon 3/4/2005
Now, think about it and come up with the chronicle threaded with the story of your last week. It could be the blueprint for the beginning of your new life.Give it some consideration and share.I can't wait. Thanks!
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Permalink Reply by Luz Aguirrebena on -
Thanks so much Jenny, the way you write... touches my heart in such a profound way...most of the time brings tears to my eyes. I love e way you do motherhood. I love the way you do life. I love the way you mix humor with being. Thanks for joining the discussion. It's a great conribution.
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