A Year To Live

That’s the name of a book I’m reading written by Stephen Levine. It’s an interesting concept and thought process, one that we in the west avoid like the plague or stepping in puddles.

We all know we’re here for a very limited time. Even if we live to be 100, how long is that compared to the history of the world? The minute we take a first breath we will one day take a last breath.

Many years ago, when I was in my 30’s and raising 3 children by myself, I thought I was having a heart attack and about to die.

I remember it like it was yesterday. The 3 children and I were having dinner when I got a massive pain in my chest so I excused myself from the table. I didn’t want to fall face down in my soup and spoil their dinner.

Walking alone into my room I sat in a chair and starting thinking about my life; if I had any regrets, anything left undone, a project uncompleted, something to apologize for or something left unsaid. I was fully prepared to die right there on the spot. No time to call a doctor, so I didn’t.

I came up with 2 items. There was a gift recently purchased that hadn’t been given. No one knew about it nor for whom it was meant. My new love would never know about his present.

The other item was my parents. The phrase “I love you” was never mentioned in the house in which I grew up. They probably did love me but they never told me and I never told them. I wanted them to know that no matter what they felt or how they felt toward me, that I did love them.

This may come as a surprise, but, I did not die that day. In fact, I’m still quite alive as I write this.

After the pain passed that day, plans were made for a 1500 mile road trip to visit my parents. I didn’t want to just tell them over the phone. A full scenario was planned from parking the car in their drive way, being the first out of the car, walking up the path and ringing their door bell. I wanted to grab my father first and give him the biggest hug he ever had in his life and tell him to his face, look right into his eyes and say, “I love you, Dad!” Then repeat the same with Mom.

The scene was played over and over in my head while I patiently waited for the trip to eventualize. In the meantime, I gave the gift.

Finally the day arrived and the 4 of us packed ourselves into the car and drove a day and a half to Mom and Dad’s.

I parked the car in their driveway, barely turned the car off and jumped out. I had to be and was the first one to walk the path to the door and ring the bell. Immediately the door opened and there stood Mom and Dad. The scene played out as planned. I grabbed Dad, threw my arms around him and he hugged me too. Looking into his eyes I said, “I love you.” With a bit of an “of course” sound in his voice he said, “Well! I love you too.” I was pleasantly shocked.

Next was Mom. We reached for each other and hugged. I said, “I love you.” Mom said, “I love you too.”

Since that time there has never been a phone conversation with them or anyone else in my family that has not ended with the words, “I love you.” That practice has expanded today to include my friends as well.

How about you? Do you need to be at Death’s Door to take stock of your life? What are you avoiding? Forgive your mistakes. Love yourself. Give everyone the same amount of room that you require. How would you live if you knew you had exactly one year from this date to live?

Plan to live forever. At the same time, expect to die this moment.