Message from a friend

“If you were to discover that you had only X months left to live, what would you change about your current life?”

On average, responses to such a question may involve desires to leave a deadening, stressful job and/or an unhappy relationship, to be set free to find self, pursue long-held dreams, fulfil bucket list wishes, achieve personal goals and, hopefully, experience heightened levels of happiness before departing this life.

For some, this means travelling the world or engaging in activities that, on any ordinary day, might instil fears of injury or death – eg sky diving, bungee cord jumping, white river rafting. For others it might involve keeping close to home to tell/show family and friends “I love you” – knowing that they will never again have that opportunity (should the medical prediction of “X days/months to live” come to pass).

Lyrics to the Kris Allen song Live Like We’re Dying invite us to reflect on an important truth for daily living: “We only got 86,400 seconds in a day

To turn it all around or to throw it all away

Gotta tell 'em that we love 'em while we got the chance to say,

Gotta live like we're dying.”

About a month ago a friend passed away after soldiering her way through a terminal illness. The word ‘soldiering’ is accurate because she was courageous in the face of circumstances that would have made many others crumble. However, it is more fitting to say that she loved and celebrated her way through the remaining years of her life. I have no doubt that love and celebration, rather than resignation, helped to increase both her life span and enjoyment of it beyond the medically predicted time frame.

In her remaining years she adopted and provided a loving home for a few rescued dogs, travelled to exotic destinations with her young adult children, enjoyed thrilling pursuits such as bungee cord jumping and shared quality moments and experiences with those around the globe who were dear to her.

Enlivened faces with genuine smiles glowed from travel photos she shared on Facebook, moving and inspiring most (if not all) who knew her.

On occasion when she was back in Tobago, I would visit her, sometimes initiated by her invitation of “Come, I have something for you from ————” (some country she had visited).

These simple, unexpected gifts showed deep thoughtfulness. Knowing my love of playing the flute, one gift was a unique bamboo flute from Vietnam. Considering my love of animals and penchant for rescuing them, another gift was a pair of magnetic animal rescue stickers for my vehicle.

In her peaceful, witty presence I never saw someone who was ‘ill’ or ‘dying’. I saw an extraordinary being who was living, embracing and enjoying every moment as fully as possible – even more so than most people who are ‘alive and well’.

On the day of her memorial celebration, held on her favourite Tobago beach, I gave a mutual friend, who was also attending, a lift to the event. As I pulled my vehicle to the side of the road along the beach front, an inebriated older man stumbled up, seemingly out of nowhere, and said with perfect coherence: “Hello, ladies. Whatever you are going to do now and whatever you do with the rest of your lives, enjoy it. Just enjoy every single moment of it.”

It was a startlingly pointed message from an unexpected source. After we said thank you, he rolled his hand into a fist, held it to his chest, said: “This is a message straight from the heart” and walked away. Amazed, my friend and I both looked at each other and chorused: “That was Anastasia.”

In these unprecedented and, for many, overwhelming times, it is easier to tell someone who is afraid to not be afraid than it is for that person to stop fearing. Once fear truly takes hold, it can invade one’s senses and rationality and become all-consuming. It can completely darken one’s inner and outer worlds.

In thinking of people who may be at present fearful, for one or more reasons, I was moved to share the story above and the stranger’s message. Perhaps something in them will light a spark of hope or realisation implicit in the words of late US author, Og Mandino: “I will love the light for it shows me the way, yet I will endure the darkness for it shows me the stars.”