Just a thought … If you were given the choice: Would you rather KNOW when you are going to die or HOW you are going to die? One or the other. If you think about it, the choice is not that easy. If you know when you are going to die, would you change whatever it is you are doing now? Well, if you are changing whatever you are doing now, why did it take your impending death to do it? Same with if you knew how you were going to die. What if you are going to be hit by a six o’clock bus on July 12, 2010? Would you stay home that day? Could you alter your fate? What if you only knew it was 6 o’clock but you didn’t know if that meant a.m. or p.m.? Or, you weren’t given the year? The location? Would you stay home every single July 12? What if you are going to die while doing something you enjoy? Would you eliminate that enjoyable activity from your life? If you did, would your life suddenly be less enjoyable therefore not worth living? (are you so impressed with my profound thoughts this morning?) Ok, anyway, just wondering. But really, it all leads into the following:
Ever watched the Chevy Chase vacation movies? Mr. Farish and I are known affectionatley as ‘Clark’ and ‘Ellen’ … then enter "Little Miss Sunshine" (complete with the spontaneously honking horn), and our vacation life has now been outlined completely. We are known as having some, shall we say, interesting adventures wherever we go. From chain-reaction vomiting, to emergency road-side diarrhea stops, enternities in the airport, friendly ‘visits’ from hotel managers, lost luggage, security searches, getting snowed in during the month of June, and various other happenings, we have experienced it all. Nobody ever asks, "How was your trip?" Oh no. The first question is invarioubly, "What happened this time?" To which we always (and I mean ALWAYS) have a whole series of answers.
Because of our never-ending series of adventures, whether home or away, this is what I imagine happening on the day I die: We have just returned from a fabulous vacation with the entire family, our extended family is gathered to hear the tales of getting lost, throwing up, sudden bouts of intestinal disturbances and language barrier mishaps. We laugh so loud and so hard that tears are streaming down our faces. We laugh so hard that someone begs us to stop because they have literally, ‘wet my pants’, we laugh so hard and for so long that eventually our sides are splittingly painful, we laugh so hard that there is nothing left to do then go to bed, close our eyes and sleep the sleep of the contented, loved and enduringly happy person that harbored no regrets in life. In other words, I don’t know how or when or where I will die, but I do know that when I do, it will be without screaming for a do-over, for I am contiually finding ways to add to my stores of happiness so that when I do go, there will be no question that I loved and was loved.
Hmmmm, not sure what brought this on, but there you have it. You know, maybe one day I will share the story of the time I had to go to the bathroom on a stretch of highway that offered no rest stops which meant finding some sort of cover … Oh yes, the ‘abandoned’ structure … run in, drop the pants, hear a sound … OCCUPIED! Now THAT was an adventure!