My friend Deborah Blackwells memorial service was held last weekend in LA, and unfortunately, I was not able to be there. Deborah was smart -- a graduate of Brown University and Harvard Business School -- successful in her career, and beautiful. Her life had its share of bumps, not the least of which was being diagnosed with Frontal Temporal Dementia in her 50s. It took five years for this devastating disease to turn her from a brilliant, accomplished woman into a child. Her sister shared these words that Deborah had written 25 years ago with all her friends. I believe they are meaningful for us all. “I love to play a game with myself in which I imagine that one year from today, there is a 50/50 chance I will be hit by a bus. I imagine there is simply a very good chance that this is the last year of my life and go from there. What does this mean? First, it means that I need to connect with my parents and my brother and sister, tell them I love them, and have a least one great holiday together. Next, it means I have to plan a wonderful vacation, and I have to take it whether or not anybody is free to go with me. The part of the world I have always wanted to see or to go back to beckons me, and this year, I must find a way to go. Of course, I must follow one interest that has always been at the back of my mind. I have to learn to play the guitar, plant a garden, go to the opera, rollerblade, play tennis, read Dickens, or scuba dive. Most important, I need to make time to see my friends. I need to listen to them, to share something that is important to them, spend aimless time hanging out with them, or take the trip we have always talked about taking together. If you have friends and you nurture those relationships, you can never have a loveless life. If I might die, I want my personal affairs in order. Self-care is a sign of good self-esteem. I want to review my finances, organize my papers, and have the peace of mind of knowing my house is in order. I want my physical house in order, too, so that I can have some comfort and a little luxury in what may be my last days. At work, I look for a place to put in a little extra effort, to go the extra mile. Finally, I look for a chance to give back. I don’t necessarily have to join the Peace Corps—perhaps I simply look for a young colleague to mentor. Maybe I fix up friends on a blind date, or maybe I donate money to my college. Playing this game tends to highlight for me how I should be living anyway. By having a mental image of myself happy, busy, healthy, beautiful, and surrounded by friends, I envision the reality I want for myself. And when my life begins to take on that golden quality of my vision, I feel confident that whatever is meant to be will occur.”
Posted on: Wed, 09 Apr 2014 23:35:16 +0000
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