Dreaming

Don't read anything into this, but I dreamed I died the other night.

It was one of those vivid dreams. Nothing was crazy or nonsensical. In the dream, I was living in a different world in the same house we live and love in. It's just that it had been decided that it was no longer practical for me to stay alive, and I was lying in bed waiting for the doctor to come and put me to sleep for good.

I remember hearing a car door slam out in the driveway, and I said, that's a good, solid door clunk, like a Buick or something. Must be the doctor. I figured he would stop downstairs to exchange pleasantries with the crowd in the living room and family room. I was sure I smelled a casserole baking. And I thought I should spend these last few minutes making sure I had left nothing undone.

I was mentally jotting down a few things that still needed tending to when I realized that it really didn't matter if I finished the projects I had started or the books that sit unread or the music unplayed. When the final buzzer goes off, so does the chance of worrying about stuff.

I woke up determined to be happy and enjoy every day as a blessing. As someone who was supposed to die at age 12, I'm playing with house money anyway. So, speaking to you now from this side of beyond, I wish to remind everyone that when we're gone, it will not matter if you did all your chores around the house as long you remember to do the happy chore of living gratefully and sharing your love.