“Not one day that you are here has been promised to you.
So make the most of every day as if it was your last,
And every breath as if it were the same.”
It happens like they say, you know. You see everything flash before your eyes and you think you’re completely done for and it’s weird, actually, because there’s this split second of acceptance instead of fear. Like, okay, if this is what’s going to be, it’s going to be. Live or die, stand or fall, this is what’s been chosen and I’m okay with that. It’s an odd feeling, really. You find some peace with what’s about to happen, or not, but that is only with yourself.
Because you also realize just as quickly, in that split second between worlds, the things and people who mean the most to you, and most of all you wish you could make peace with them first before the final fateful judgement call is made.
You wish you could turn back time and remember that every fight with your sister was so unimportant, if you could just hug her one more time or hear her laugh, you would tell your mother how much, really how much you appreciate how amazing she is as a mother, a friend, a carer, a person. You would tell your friends who you don’t see or talk to half as often as you should that you love every single one of them for putting up with you all of these years and that you’re sorry you didn’t make more of an effort to spend more time with them but they always meant the world to you, even if it didn’t seem like it. You would tell your children that they are going to go on and become great, successful, happy people and live a good life and you’re so proud of them already. You would tell the man you cared for more than any before him that you regret every fight, every bitter and hateful word, everything that hurt him, that hurt you both and you wish that he would just remember how much you loved him with everything you had, that you hope he would forgive you, you forgive him and you wish with everything you’ve got left that you could hold his hand just once.
You would tell your father you forgive him and you wish despite all you’d thought and said that he didn’t have to spend so many years in pain and indignity.
You wish you could say goodbye, to everyone.
All of these thoughts in a matter of seconds, and that still doesn’t even scratch the surface. And afterwards, when you’re standing, upright, in one piece, breathing, alive, you’re left with so many remnants of these thoughts and you’re not sure whether you’re left with more regrets than things to be thankful for, and that’s part of the tragedy.
Life, mortality, it’s so fragile and uncertain. I guess my current thinking right now is to not take for granted what is not promised to be here tomorrow, for whatever reason.
“So drown me and if you can
Or we could just have conversation.
And I fall, I fall, I fall down
But I found you, before I drift away.” ~ Dallas Green.