…for tomorrow we die. The world is ending tomorrow! Tell us about your last dinner — the food, your dining companions, the setting, the conversation.
If tomorrow this all came to an end, and I knew it, I would open my eyes from what I did earlier this morning. I would remember the morning my window was raised high and I listened to the early sounds the world made. I heard crickets chirping, playing their final notes of the night. I listened as the early morning travelers made their way to where they were going. I would open my eyes when I felt the gentle, golden kiss of the sunlight on my eyelids as it came from over the horizon.
I would remember my first sunset that had every colour imaginable and would make a point that tonight, I would watch it set one final time with my family and those friends who I keep close to my heart.
I wouldn’t put so much emphasis on the last bite of food that passed my lips nor the final drink of water. I would ensure that every moment I had left after my eyes were open wide. I would then wander out of my apartment to drive over two hundred miles to be with my father, brother, husband, stepson and stepdaughter.
I would drive us all out to the place that we had the happiest of memories of childhood on Charleston Gift Road.
My brother, father, and I, so very long ago, planted a surrounding of pine trees that lined the backyard of that old house. My grandfather helped as well but he has long since passed away. In the clearing, we would sit among them on the last few, precious hours we had on this planet. We would look up at those trees that were once in our small hands. The trees that very much tower over us now and make us feel so small. After all, in a world filled with thousands of people we are all small but we each have a story.
Clayton, which is my brother, and I would talk about the memory of that great day when we didn’t take away from the earth but put something back in it. My father would have a picnic basic for those that wanted something to eat. I would imagine it would be filled with his home cooked chili and two pecan pies. One that had the crushed pecans and one with the whole.
Our family would marvel in how happy we were able to grow up together. I’d play one more game of swords with my cousin because, at this moment, it doesn’t matter that I am 31. A time like this, we would revisit….just for a little while…the joy of being a child again. We would run through those pine trees and after my friends who I met, stuck with me through all of my faults and shortcomings, would notice that beautiful sun.
The sun would then be falling behind the horizon, sitting for it’s last time. I wouldn’t need a camera as the memory and sight of it would be embedded in my mind for all eternity as would all the people that I adore, love, and cherish that surround me.
I would eat but it wouldn’t be food.
We would gorge ourselves with the memories of long since past and be thankful that we were together. We would drink up the love and final sunshine of our last night on Earth. We would be merry and rather exhausted from playing in that old country backyard where memories and passions were forged.
We would have no regrets.
We would have no negative thoughts.
We would be thankful, blessed beyond measure that we had one another to watch the end together.
We would have lived and that’s more than most people get to do but it’s not to be said out of arrogance. It’s said out of utter humility that we were so lucky to have such an opportunity.
And with those final thoughts on our minds, we would lay under the night sky with our hands held together. Our free hand would hold a piece of pecan pie. Then, we would welcome the end.