One of the unfortunate realities of life is that we all must die. No big reveal there, but what hit me is how much more often I meet friends and families at funerals. There are those who I haven’t seen in years, and I remind myself to make sure to reach out afterwards, or we both make promises to each other to keep in touch, until the next time we really meet is at another funeral.
It hits me that as I get older so are my loved ones, especially the ones who were part of my growing up. And it feels one by one, one less person remains, and I wonder what lessons am I learning? What kind of life do I want to live that when my turn comes, there is more to be said. One thing is clear to me is that I do not want a big fuss at my funeral. I have never enjoyed being the center of attention. I prefer to work from the side, and the idea of celebrating me in any form has always unsettled me.
I find it extremely easy to give, but receiving always made me feel deeply uncomfortable. as I attend more funerals, more realization that my time on this Earth is short, the question that keeps coming up for me is: “Am I living the best possible version of my life?” There are days I can say a resounding yes. On the days, I can be of service to others, on the days I can listen to someone without judgement, on the days I can perform acts of service.
Yet there are more often days when I am not the best version of myself, when I make up stories on why I am not writing, when I am not visiting or spending time with loved ones, when I don’t follow my passions a chance to breathe. But mostly, it’s the deep-lying regret of losing connection with so many in my life.
I have been blessed to have been on the planet for 47 years, yet I struggle to remember if what I have been up to matters. And so in 2019, I begin anew to do better, be better, to connect, to love and then yes, perhaps be in touch with the ones in my life no matter how long ago that was.