37 Days

What would you do if you only had 37 days left to live? What would you be doing with the precious time you had left? and with whom?

A few years ago, I had the brilliant realization that I was not going to live forever. Feeling mortal (then), I decided that my legacy would be my art-quilts. So I was in a mad rush to finish the Oliver quilt--because no one else would be able to do it. He's my kid. When it was done--I didn't die (not yet anyway). I also realized I was spending a lot of time in my sewing room, not talking to anyone, not building the relationships with those who mattered most--my family and friends. Although I'm happy with the result, the quilt lacked CONNECTION. That's been my theme for 2008. As a result, I haven't been quilting much and communicating more.

Now, if I only had 37 days left to live, I'd forget about my day job and spend all the quality time I could with my loved ones (CL, Oliver, my parents, Gramma, Janna, SKS, Ray & Rosita, Dottie, Caroline, my Anchors). It's not rocket science--no fireworks--no trips to Disneyland. Just quality time with the people who mean the most to me. It's the relationships that matter most in this world.

This summer, I was fortunate enough to reconnect with an old friend from my early days at Summit Ave. Coop. For 36 days we spoke or emailed almost daily. On the 36th day, I left for a trip to Scotland. Those 36 days were swell! I was really HAPPY to spend so much time re-connecting with this long-lost friend. I remember being on the plane over the Altantic Ocean, thinking, if I died tomorrow (Day 37), it'd be okay. They know I love them ... We're still in contact, and I hope this friendship continues the rest of our lives. Here's to you, SKS! Thanks for coming back into my life. I'm enjoying you here in my life!

Having just 37 Days left really makes me think about what's important, and what's not.

I'd also try to prepare my loved ones for life without me. I've learned a few things in my lifetime--losing a few of the ones I've loved. I want them to know that I'll still be around them. Those who love us, love us still even after we're gone. It's kind of like in Fanny & Alexander where the Dad was there as a ghost--observing--but he couldn't talk. He still cared about his family, but he couldn't do anything but FEEL for them. I want them to know that they can still talk to me (I talk to Sandy regularly) after I'm gone. It may be hard to hear my answers, but I'll be listening--I'll still be with them as long as they need me. Keba and Sandy have both managed to communicate with me since they left--It may not be as often as I would like, and it's a different kind of listening ..... I'd tell them, "You only have to think of me and I'll be there with you. It won't be the same, but I can still be with you ..."

There was also a scene from that Isabelle Allende book / movie, House of Spirits, where the mother prepared the grand-daughter for her death. What did she say?

"Just as when we come into the world, when we die, we are afraid of the unkown. But the fear is something from within us that has nothing to do with reality. Dying is like being born : just a change." Clara said. "Death would not be a separation, but a way of being more united" (p. 290).

My best friend, Sandy, died suddenly and unexpectedly 2 months before my son was born. I never got to say goodbye. Since then, I've had many conversations with her. It's a different kind of being together, a different kind of listening for her ... I can still hear her big laugh, still hear her saying, "I'm proud of you," and "Buttonsth" [sic]. She's still there when I really need her.

Part of that realization last summer was also a need to set down my family stories and lessons learned--the things I want my kid to know and remember after I'm gone. So I started this Hidden Passages Blog as a gift to my loved ones--friends and family alike.

Kate Bush sings, "These moments given are a gift from time. Just let us try to give the moment back to those we love, to those who will survive" (Moments of Pleasure).

Glen Phillips "Last Sunset"