I often wonder what my last thought will be. My last memory. My last dream. My last spoken word. My last gesture. There are some spaces in time that consciously go into my "last moment" rolodex. There are other periods of time that just like to take up space. Like when you are trying to find some important contact and you just keep flipping through needless information. I sometimes forget that these rolodex cards are removable and should be promptly trashed when happened upon. Brain clutter. I only wish to keep those cards worthy of being my last. But this is so backwards.
I yearn with all my heart to live, think, dream, talk and gesture like it is last. Forget the rolodex. Alas, I am beaten most every time by my brain clutter. There is only one time that I forge through this so called life and subconsciously live like it is my soul's last breath. This happens when I say goodbye to my kids. Pure love springs eternal when they are going to bed all snuggled sweetly or when they go off on a grand adventure with their Dad. When I kiss their pink cheeks as I watch them walk into school or when I say yes to an after school play date. I am fiercely struck by these moments of separation and I can do nothing but live like it is my last moment.
I have too much brain clutter. Last moments do not happen nicely, tied with a ribbon. More often than not last moments happen within the brain clutter. Yelling, distraction, frustration, sickness, tiredness and being overwhelmed are just a few of my everyday emotions - my brain clutter. This clutter gets in the way. It prevents me from finding that one important contact.
No regrets. The "R" word. My Love and I used to pride ourselves on not having any. There was a moment in time that I could not even remember the actual word. I would say, "What is that R word, again?" But it can slowly creep into your life and take over without even asking permission. I don't want to keep asking for "do overs." I just want to breathe like I have been given a do over - all the time so that when my last moment comes I am not living within a regret, covered up with brain clutter.
The other night I had THE BEST night's sleep. It wasn't because I went to bed early or because my kids didn't wake up. It was because of my continuous dream. Prior to going to bed that night we had been breathing in about 8 days of straight sun and highs in the 60s. In March! All night long I dreamed of torrential rain. The rain kept raining. Downpour. It rained hard all night in my dream. There was no story line. No happenings. Just rain. I woke up to a rainy day and I felt so comforted by the water. My "rain" dream kept replaying all day in my head and when I went to bed the next night, I said out loud (to my Love's horror, I'm sure), "I wish my dream last night could have been my last dream. It was so wonderfully peaceful." I don't want to die of course. I just want to make sure that when in the act of dying that I have wonderful amazing joyous peaceful brain activity, with no regrets prying their way into my domain.
The only way for me to achieve this is to start throwing away the brain clutter and start living to die. Every moment. Every day. This cannot be a goal to attain. At this point in my life this has to be a decision of commitment to my life, my Love's life and to my children's lives.