Writer’s Block: Last Supper

“If you had one night left to live, what would you do? Would you prefer to spend your final night with a loved one or alone? What would you choose for your last meal?”

I’ve always felt that one’s final epitaph should not be a statement of the “things” they collected throughout their lifetime, or even the deeds they did for others. It should be a statement of meaning, a statement that your life had a profound impact on those around you merely by you being true to yourself.

My final thoughts would be for those I was to leave behind, and my last moments would be spent with family, friends, and other acquaintances with whom I had shared a close bond. As such, my last meal would be irrelevant and the various offerings of this circle of friends, family, and acquaintances would be accepted with heartfelt gratitude. The gathering would be held outdoors, beneath the heavens, in a location untouched by earthly hands and would be one in celebration of my life, not one centered on grief, loss, and sorrow. Recollections and memories would be of special moments I’d shared with each family member, friend, and/or acquaintance, with special emphasis given by me to each of these people as to the manner in which they had enriched my life and the qualities in each of them that I had appreciated the most. I would want my final moments to be an opportunity to enrich the lives of the living, not dwell on the sorrows of death – another opportunity to write my own epitaph by being true to myself.

Death is a fact of life, and a door through which all of us will pass. Whether we pass through that door peacefully and with acceptance, or kicking and screaming from fear of the unknown is the final test of our quality of character. Death is merely another opportunity to write yet another chapter in our lives, another opportunity to make a statement of our existence.

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