Well, this week another friend passed away from rotten miserable cancer. I hadn’t seen her for quite a while but kept in contact through social media. A little over a month ago, she notified everyone that she had stage 4 liver cancer. She didn’t ask for anything, as was her usual, just that everyone knew and would think about her.

I wish I had gone to see her and talk to her one more time.

Regrets, we all have a few. For everyone I have known who has passed away too soon, I have regrets: that I didn’t visit, I didn’t do this or that, I made excuses, etc. And now they’re gone, and procrastination won’t help a bit. Too little, too late. And here I am feeling sorry for myself instead of having empathy for her family. Someone kick me, please.

I suppose as I get older (which is a better alternative than not having any more birthdays!), this scenario will play out even more frequently. And, at some point, it will be my turn to share the bad news. I’m hoping to just pass away quietly in my sleep after I reach the 100-year mark, but we don’t always get what we want, do we? Perhaps I should get my affairs in order, so to speak. But then what? Just sit around and wait? No, I don’t think so.

I want to put the word out now. If I suddenly kick off, everyone left will have to set it up. And I don’t want one of those “celebration of life” things sometime down the road. Get right on it, no waiting around. I want a wake, with some party atmosphere—don’t be all solemn, please—because you know I love a good party. Serve some booze, wine and beer are fine, maybe ham sandwiches, too. Don’t forget chips. And music. Not that whiny stuff, something more Led Zeppelin-ish. And for God’s sake, mix it up a bit. Tell jokes. Talk about all the stupid reckless crazy things I did in my life. I wouldn’t mind a few motorcycles in the funeral caravan, either. Someone could even ride mine, I guess.

If there’s time, for example, if I suddenly get stage 4 liver cancer, I will plan it out myself. I’m not terribly afraid of dying, but I am afraid of not living enough. Every single friend or family member that passes away before me is a kick in the stomach; it’s not something that I will ever get used to. At the same time, every single one reminds me that there are still things to do and life to live.

We all have to go sometime. Let’s enjoy the time we have now. If you were thinking of visiting an old friend (like me!), make that a reality, not just a thought. There is no time like the present. Literally.


OMP Admin Note: Michele Potter is a writer and OMP Network member – one of a group of networkers who will be blogging on a regular basis on various causes and issues.

Michele is an incredibly diverse and talented writer who I hope will collect her short stories and make them available on Amazon someday soon. In the meantime, her story PERCEPTIONS is available in the guest author section of the flash fiction anthology BITE SIZE STORIES VOLUME ONE.

https://www.amazon.com/Bite-Size-Stories-Jason-Greenfield-ebook/dp/B01HALHVBW/ref=la_B00CBFLI1W_1_4?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1475095358&sr=1-4

https://www.amazon.co.uk/Bite-Size-Stories-Jason-Greenfield-ebook/dp/B01HALHVBW/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1475095546&sr=1-1

One thought on “No Time Like Now — by Michele Potter

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