All of us experience death. As we age, that experience comes to us in different ways. Yes, we all know we’re dying. Slowly and without much consideration. Some of us just had a head start. We may experience death with family members, friends, or neighbors and how those deaths come will vary.
Dying slowly means there is time to reflect and not as much time to look forward to another day. Today becomes special. Tomorrow becomes a cherished gift when, in turn, it becomes today.
For me, today seems to drift into tomorrow far more quickly than I ever expected.
Historically, I’ve been one who uses lists to accomplish specific goals. I have lists of what needs to be done today and lists for tomorrow. I have lists of objectives I want to accomplish in the future.
Unfortunately, ALS robs victims of the energy and strength needed to check off items from a to-do list.
Much of what I want to do today will not be accomplished. The list of what should be done tomorrow seems to grow longer every day. The list of unfinished items grows longer, too.
My grandmother lived to 104 and remained in relatively good health until the final year. Her secret (other than genes)? “Keep moving.” Another secret she shared was just as simple. “Hope for the best but prepare for the worst.”
That has two key words. Hope and prepare.
Good preparation carries with it the notion of planning and plans work well with lists. My plan, now with life ebbing away by the minute, is to keep adding to the list and checking items off the list.
Getting through today is the only way I can get to tomorrow.