An Hour


Just one hour to live. I take a deep breath.
In the beginning of it all, at the start of my life, I would have fought it. Kicked and screamed and desperately searched for some escape. Anything for just another day.

Something has shifted in me now that I am approaching 50. Not that I particularly want to die in the next hour. Of course there is fear! But there is also acceptance. This feeling that I have lived a full life already.

Now my desire is to call my family to say a last “I love you.” Then maybe a cup of coffee and a smoke. I quit smoking in my 30′s but now a cigarette sounds like a good idea. I feel a peace that I lived the best life I could.

I made so many mistakes but I always had so much love around me that the mistakes didn’t break me.
I think that’s maybe the secret to a content life . . . love. Not just romantic love but a real love for all those around you. To love those who come in and out of your life. To not judge or hate but to accept and love.

When the hour is up I snuff out the cigarette, take one last swig of coffee and head into the next chapter, whatever that may be. Feeling sad to leave this earth but thankful for the time I had here and the people I got to spend that time with.

An hour is just enough.

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