What I Learned From Saturday Night

Even though what happened on Saturday night was terrible and heartbreaking, I have learned a couple of things that I’d like to share with you.

I feel like blogging again.  Yeah.

The man died.  His name was Mark and he was 64.  He had a heart attack.   It turns out that I used to work with his daughter in law.  Small world.  He and his son had just spent a week together at their cabin.  A week together was a nice gift to give his son.

That I don’t want to die in a parking lot.  I’ve been thinking a lot about death in the last couple of days.  I know we can’t pick where we want to die, but I would like to die…  Hold on a second.  I don’t think there is a really good place to die.  Someone has to see it or find you…..  OK.  There is no good place.  Next.

I need to take better care of myself.  If I don’t want to die in a parking lot, I need to start eating healthier.  While I wrote notes for this blog on break I ate a banana.  Not chips or chocolate.  A banana.  I would love to have chocolate, but I see him dying  in the parking lot and I know I need to make a healthier choice.  I get that the damage of my unhealthy eating over the years has probably made it’s mark on my body and their isn’t a reverse on that, but I can try to do better from this point on.  It may be too late.  I don’t know.  But I can try.

I have probably been looking at Saturday night from the wrong perspective.  For the last couple of days all I can think about is that his son couldn’t save him.  That’s heartbreaking.  I prayed to God (I’m not a prayer.  I think this is most I have ever prayed) to give the son strength, courage, forgiveness and love.  I was talking about this with my husband today and he looks at it this way.  He didn’t die alone.  His son was with him doing all that he could to do to save him.  He could feel his son’s love as he died.  I like this and I am comforted with my husband’s way of looking at.

I know my time on this earth is limited.  I know I’ve written about this before.  When we are young we think our days will last forever and we will live forever.  I am not going to live forever nor do I want to.  I want to make my days count.  What items are on my bucket list?  What do I want to do?  You know what the funny thing is?  In these last couple of years I feel like I just started living.  I don’t know what I was doing before that.  Surviving.  Menopause has given me a voice and an attitude  and I have just begun to share that.

I want to write more.  I want to help people through my writing.  This is the mark I want to leave on this world.  My words.  This has always been a goal of mine.   Helping people through my writing is part of my personal mission statement.

A lot of people don’t want to talk about death.  I used to be like that.  If I don’t talk about it then I don’t have to deal with it.  Since my dad died I am more willing to talk about it.  We have to be.  The older you get the closer to death you get.  Maybe it would be easier if we knew what happened after we died.  We don’t and I think that is the scary part.  Death isn’t easy.  It sucks.  OK.  I’ve written enough about it tonight.

I have always been afraid of being alone at night.  I never knew what spirits of dead people were around me.  Tonight I am alone and afraid.  It’s silly that I am afraid.  Is my dad around?  My grandparents?  Someone I hated?  I’m not afraid that someone might break in.  I’m afraid of what spirits might by in my house.  Interesting.  I just realized this tonight.  I’ll have to think about this.  I wonder why I’m afraid.  I don’t even watch those ghost hunting shows.

And last, but not least tell the people that you love that you love them today.

You might not have tomorrow.

I love each of you.  Thanks for reading my blog.