A Life Well Lived

It was a good one. It was.

I lay on my bed, taking in my last moments. My family was in the living room, conversing and laughing through the hardships. That was always my favorite thing about the kids that I’d raised. How they always made it through even the toughest and most sobering moments with a chuckle and a smile on their face.

My three kids, Sarah, Ezra, and Alexandra, had all made it in when they’d heard I wasn’t doing well. Granted, I was nearing ninety-seven years, so I think they knew it was bound to happen eventually. But all three had made their ways into town. Ezra lived in the outskirts of Philadelphia, Sarah in Colorado, and Alexandra just a short twenty-minute drive away from me in New Jersey. Ezra and Lexi brought their kids and spouses, Sarah her dog. And all three a pleasant aura given the dread I knew they were feeling.

I lay in my bed unresponsive as all three of them had come in the room to speak to me. We’d all had our qualms over the years, of course. Their father had left us nearly forty years ago, so it was bound to happen with me running the house. But it’s okay. Such is being a mother. And they all knew I loved them, and there were no amends to make. I’d always forgive them for any spat.

It was unfortunate that I hadn’t had the capacity to respond. Ezra had cried the most though, and I am glad that I managed to grip his hand just a bit. I think he really needed it.

But it’s been a struggle on the way down. We all needed this last bit of time together, certainly. And I had only lost the strength to speak within the last few days. Before then, we were still paling around. I’ve always loved being so close with my kids, truly. I think it’s something not enough parents are able to find within themselves. When your kids are adults, it’s time to love them in a different way. You’ll always be their guardian. But they also need a friend.

I thought back on my entire history. Lost loves. Successful careers. The greatest three projects I’d ever taken part in of course, all sitting just two doors away and a dozen feet away. And the wonderful children (both human and canine) and achievements that they’d managed in their lives. I certainly loved, I most definitely laughed. And I think I really did live. I’m okay with this. This feels like a lovely little conclusion to a wonderful century of life. I really feel accomplished.

Despite it all, I’m glad everyone was in the other room. There was no need for them to go through that final moment with me. I love them all dearly, but some things are better done in solitude. We’d already had our goodbyes. So I left my goodbyes to the rest of the world.

I tied up emotional loose ends. I was surrounded by love. What more could an old gal ask for?

I closed by eyes and sighed. And then, true, wonderful bliss. I was truly happy.

And then it stopped.

~~~~~~~~~

I opened my eyes to see nothing of light. Nothing of depth. There were no walls, there was no time or space. I cannot verbalize the absence of existence as anything other than a void, and even that doesn’t quite do it justice. But that is what I felt when I observed my consciousness¬ on this other plane. It was truly fascinating.

I looked up. I saw what looked to be a computer cursor and a blinking notice.