On the day I die, life will go on… Breathtaking sunrises and sunsets will continue. Birds will fly their migratory paths. People will watch a new episode of their favorite TV show. Sirens will shriek in the night. Children will be tucked into bed with their favorite teddy bear. On the day I die… The to-do list I never quite finished will remain incomplete. Appointments will be left unattended. The Google calendar that directed my days will be irrelevant. The many plans I had will remain forever unfulfilled. Words of my critics won’t hurt me again. Emails, texts, and calls will go unanswered. Regrets will vanish like melting ice. Anxieties that robbed me of sleep won’t do so again. External things that seemed important will be left for others to care for or discard. The day after I die… Tim will wish he’d learned to use the washing machine. The few people who knew me will grief. Something in them, our history together, will have died as well. They’ll want more time with me, one more belly laugh, one more hug. But they will learn to live without me. I learned this from the losses of loved ones I still grieve. So before I die…. I will try to fill the remaining time with gentleness and good humor. I’ll be mindful not to waste time worrying about things beyond my control. I’ll watch the lights of a candle and stars in the sky. I’ll fill my heart with gratitude and wonder. The day when we die is getting closer. Before that day arrives: let us live.