I watched you sleeping last night after you told me you worried about me dying. I told you we would be together forever, and I meant it, but not in the way you thought, and that killed me a little. I wish I could assure you that I would die first, of old age, hopefully holding your hand at home. surrounded by loved ones. But I can’t promise that. You told me you wanted to die hugging me and I about lost it. I can’t bear the thought of losing you. Not even for a minute.
But the truth is that we all will die. We have no idea when or where. And since the day we are born we are sprinting towards our death. Each breath brings us closer.
The reality of that makes me want to choose joy in every moment. Especially with you.
To put down the phone. Put away the computer. Stop cooking dinner or cleaning the house or answering emails or worrying about work.
And just hold you.
And be present with you and connect.
Because I worry about dying too.
Just not enough sometimes.
Our culture does not emotionally prepare us for our death. Not like they do in other ones.
When you are old enough I want you to listen to Joan Halifax’s talk on Being With Dying.
It will make you appreciate living like nothing else.
I love you peanut.
Always and forever.