The Ticking

I am in my livingroom listening to the song “Lament” from EVITA.  So you know.  If it were my time, which it isn’t I think I would be thinking this below.

The ticking of time, the light filtering through the trees on the edge of the yard illuminating the grass like a field of fires.  This is what comes to mind when I think of that time.  The time in my life for the ticking.  The ticking off of people from one of many lists that I need to call from to say my good-byes to the ticking of the clock in our downstairs hallway that has always seemed to tick louder when you were waiting for something important to happen.

I think that I would just go on living life as usual until the last month of my life if I knew it was coming.  I would still have a family to take care of, bills to pay and dogs to walk.  I would not want my family to remember that the last six months were spent on frivilous things.  I want them to remember me as a dedicated husband and father who expended every last bit of life or energy to make sure they were provided for.

The last month I would spend with my son and daughter and husband and friends and family.  I know how to use commas, but I want you to feel that I keep adding people to my lists of those I would want near me.

I know of my own mortality, I have dealt with terminal illness before and it has to prove to be terminal before I slow down, perhaps because I refuse to go stagnant and let it take over like vines on an old brick building.  I have too much to do to sit idly waiting for the ticking to stop.






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