It’s 11:00 pm.
I’m wrapping up my day, finishing some things for tomorrow’s work day, planning tomorrow’s details of what needs to be completed… and I just thought,
“Who says I even GET a tomorrow?
What if I didn’t – What would be left undone?’’
We’ve all heard Tim McGraw’s song “Live Like You Were Dying”.
We know we’re supposed to be living like we were dying, but on my last day, I actually don’t think I’d choose to go skydiving or mountain climbing – and if you see me getting on a bull named Fu-Man-Chu, please knock some sense back into me.
What would I actually do on my last day? What does it really mean to live like you were dying?
If I knew my breaths were numbered –
- I’d savor each one. I’d take the time to notice what it feels like to take a deep breath and exhale.
- I’d make a video for my grandchildren, telling them who their grandpa really is beyond what their young minds can understand.
- I’d write them notes to open for future major holidays and life events.
- I’d pray. I imagine I’d pray the most honest prayer I’ve ever prayed, with a fervor I’ve never had before.
- I’d call my family and my friends. I’d tell them exactly what they mean to me, and I’d beg them with everything I had left to run the rest of their race to the fullest.
- I’d name specific gifts I see in them.
- I’d right my wrongs as best as I could… If I needed to come clean with someone, I’d do it.
- I’d forgive those who’ve wronged me in half a heartbeat, and let them know they’re forgiven – whether they asked for it or not.
- I’d tie up loose ends. If someone was relying on me for something, I’d make sure they could pick up where I left off.
- I’d find someone who’d poured into my life and thank them for it.
- I’d hold the ones I love the most, tighter and longer than ever before.
- I’d lavish kind words and encouragement on them.
- I’d give away everything I’d accumulated to those who could still use it.
- I’d tell my wife everything – EVERYTHING she means to me – and I’d let go of our shortcomings as a couple. I’d let her know that I KNOW she’d made me the luckiest man in the world.
Interesting – nothing here about enjoying my stuff.
Wow… not one. Stunning.
The pursuit and maintaining of stuff occupies the majority of our time, and yet, in the end, it doesn’t matter at all.
When I started this post, my goal was to identify what I’d do if I knew I was dying. But as I’m wrapping up, I’m realizing that if these things are important enough to me to accomplish in my last days or hours, maybe I should make them more important right here and now.
What would YOU do if you knew your breaths were numbered?
Guess what? They are.
All of us need to be reminded what really matters now and then.