16. Life Passing Before Me
We’ve all heard about the phenomenon of a person’s life passing before them as they leave this earth. I haven’t gotten that far yet, and I can’t say for certain if and how it all goes down, but I’ve imagined it this way.
The end is nearing. I’m reclining in a chair or a bed and a big-ass screen lowers from above. Orchestrated music begins in surround-sound, and the face of God fills the screen — much like the MGM lion, or the Paramount mountain, or the globe of Universal Studios does at the beginning of the movies we’ve all watched over the years.
A slow crawl of credits inches along the bottom, maybe with my name and birth date and other pertinent pieces of information — hopefully not my Social Security number, cause you know, we’re supposed to keep that 9-digit number secret. An exercise in futility if you ask me, since every damned bank, school, hospital, insurance company, municipal agency, and pizza delivery dude makes you fork over the digits before you can open an account, register for a class, wait in an ER, get utilities into your home, or a policy to insure the digs in case some catastrophic event sends you into the night looking for the pizza delivery dude who has your Social Security number and your pepper and pepperoni.
Holy crap — I totally digress.
I’m leaving the tirade cause it’s sort of how my mind is working now, and I sort of find it funny.
Anyway, back to the movie reel, it might happen that way, but recent events have me thinking the end of life phenomenon won’t be a splashy cinematic event, in fact, I think I’m already experiencing the phenomenon and it is sooooo without fanfare. If I am correct, my movie reel has been chopped into little segments that would be announced at the Academy Awards like this: And the winner in the Dribs and Drabs category ……. Sheryll O’Brien. Truthfully, I should win that category, after all my life is sooooo not splashy — it’s a collection of wonderful dribs and drabs.
Example #1: For the past few weeks, I’ve been receiving calls, emails, and text messages — some with emojis I didn’t even know existed, and some with emojis that caused confusion on my part.
“A thumbs up on my terminal cancer announcement? Is that a good thing or a bad thing,” I asked Jessica.
“It’s a supportive thing,” she laughed.
“If you say so,” I grumbled.
Other communiques were on the short and sweet side of things.
“Hi, Sheryll. Hope all is well.”
“As well as can be expected,” I’ve heard myself grumble.
Other messages went immediately into the ‘brain teaser’ category.
“Hey, do you remember that time we did this or that?”
Apparently most of the ‘this or that’ events in the earlier days of my life were done after copious amounts of celebrants were consumed — so NO, I don’t remember, but I bet ‘this and that’ was fun.
Some emails are full-on rambles of things the sender wants me to know before I go. I read every word and end up happy to learn about the full lives of people I knew once upon a time.
Surprisingly, one quick dispatch reminded me that I still have that _______ I borrowed, and could it be returned before I go?
For the record, it was returned. But, if I’m wrong, the jackass owner can pry the _______ from my cold, dead hands, or take it up with the widower who will be living alone at my former address on a date to be determined.
Oops. That rant feels a bit iffy in the karma category. Still, I’m going to give myself a pass on this one because I’ve been really good in thought and deed lately. I’m not trying to pull the wool over God’s eyes because let’s face it — He already knows All. About. Me. But, I figure it can’t hurt to do a little cleaning and sprucing up before I make my appearance. As for the little snit-fit I just had, I hope He accepts that it very well could have been the result of my skull cancer.
Example #2: My mailbox has seen w.a.y. more activity lately with people sending cards — not Get Well cards because, well, you know — but rather Thinking of You cards. It’s nice that people take the time to send along a Hallmark message, or one they’ve penned themselves and slipped into a pink, purple, blue, green, or yellow envelope meant to bring a bit of cheer.
I did an experiment the other day, I left the envelopes unopened to see if just having them in the house brought joy. I stared at the pretty rainbow of 4 x 6 paper enclosures with pretty scripted return addresses announcing who the card was from (sort of diminished the ‘surprise’ element, but whatever). My hypothesis bore out what I suspected — the colors and the names made me happy, the messages inside brought a plethora of emotion — mostly smiles, but a few tears, for sure.
I especially enjoyed the Kraft brown envelopes and matching note cards that have been coming with regularity from my editor. Andria has taken to sending me cards with quotes from my books, and then penning something sweet or sassy about the line I wrote.
A truly fabulous thing to do and to receive.
Anyway, I’ve decided the calls, emails, and cards are part of the dribs and drabs life passing phenomenon of Sheryll O’Brien. Over the past few weeks, I’ve heard from people I haven’t seen in years. People I have missed and thought of on many, many occasions, but went on missing because the push of life got in the way of reaching out. Happily, the push of death — my death — has them reaching out. One of those individuals is someone I wouldn’t have wanted to leave this earth without hearing from — an end of life blessing, for sure. (I probably got her Irish up by mentioning this, but hearing from her means the world to me, so I figure she’ll give me a pass).
Example #3: My favorite life passing experience fills my heart with joy. My daughters have taken it upon themselves to spend time with their mom — quality time. On occasion, we have filled the hours with chit-chat, and other times with movies, the kind that begin with the roar of a lion, or the majesty of a mountain, or the spin of a globe.
Hannah and I, or Jessica and I, have kicked back and watched one of MY favorite movies, (You’ve Got Mail, Six Days Seven Nights, White Christmas, Out of Africa — the list goes on and on). These are the movies I’ve suggested we watch over the years, only to have received an eye-roll and a counter suggestion that we watch something from this millennium.
Example #4: My family and I have spent hours going through plastic bins that protect the valuable keepsakes and mementos that are ‘lovingly stored’ in the dark, dank, basement of our home. I suspect my loved ones have been picking and choosing things that might show up at my ‘going away’ party — the one I won’t be attending.
Example #5: My home has been filled with the sound of MY music. This isn’t unusual because I listen to music ALL OF THE TIME. What is unusual is that the Bose system in the kitchen will suddenly start and one of my favorites will fill the air: Into the Mystic, Helpless, Don’t Let Me Down, Turn the Page, Innamorata — those were yesterday’s selections. I smile because I know one of my loved ones is thinking of me and sending a tune that reminds me of some part of my past.
See – dribs and drabs.
That is how my life is passing before me and it is wonderful. I take solace during these difficult days that my loved ones are joining me on the journey of my life. They are listening to voicemails, reading emails and notes, watching MY movies, smiling wide at the things Mom saved from their childhoods, and filling the air with the sounds that make ME happy.
There still may be a movie starring yours truly at the end of my life. If so, I expect it will be wonderful.