If I knew I was going to die today, I wouldn’t focus on what I’ve lacked, my flaws, imperfections or things I still have left to do…
I would remember a fantasy world…
A world where family used to sit around the table to have their meals together, talking, laughing, telling stories, speaking all the same time and magically listening to every conversation and replying in joy.
I would remember a world where my boys are close to me, very present and intentionally around, looking for advice, excited to share, rapt (extasiado) to tell me about something they’ve just experienced, a girl they’ve just met, something about her smile, the way she moves her hand and touches her hair, the simple but breathtaking smile coordinated with her looking unintentionally until meeting their gaze…
I would remember a happily ever after life, the one I probably have lived, or not, but that I miss, one that exists in my own mind, with birds singing, sitting at the back porch looking at the mountains, feeling the breeze touching my face, the butterflies kissing the flowers and the humminbirds in their last journey before fall arrives in its majesty.
I would remember an utopic love, truly soul mate, as I felt once, or twice… when I was 20 and then again when I was 35, before it had faded away to a far away land, which I no longer could smell its scent, feel its temperature, hear its sounds, see its enchantment or touch its form.
So much for maturing and growing old…without realizing we stop living the present or imagining the future, but we use our creative minds to change the past, to color the happy pages, to add glitter to it and make it even brighter and happier. We skip or without any resentment we rip off the pages with the sad stories. But some, the ones we are proud of, we would frame and put in our imaginary living room, close to the mantel, as a reminder of our battles and the medals we’ve collected throughout the years. Scars that as years pass we become proud to share, to talk about our vulnerabilities, to show that we too were weak and unhappy, but we are okay with that.
I would make sure everyone knows how much I love them, not individually, because I truly believe I’ve done that throughout the journey, but that if they could imagine love in its greatest form, size, color, sound and smell; the strongest beating of the heart, the warmth of the 12o’clock sun, the awakening of a deep dive in a lake, the beauty of a sunset and the promise of a sunrise, and the brighteness of a full moon in a perfectly clear sky. My love would be present in all of it, and at the peaceful silence at the mountain top and the beauty of the landscape under their feet they would feel me, there, still present, somewhere they can’t see, but feel as they close their eyes.
I would imagine that I have never left my boys, neither for a second, that we have shared everything and more and it was never enough, such a great love we always have for one another. I would remember our moments together doing the dishes, talking about our day: the silliest things and that would mean the world. I would remember watching they opening the front door and coming inside the apartment where I would be already preparing dinner and they would walk into the tiny kitchen, kiss my chic and walk to their room. I would remember arriving from work, with my hands full of computer bag, pocket book, car keys and the groceries bags I’ve purchased in my way home, planning some special dinner and would see them sitting at the living room, watching TV, playing on the floor with Hot Wheels cars and tracks and laughing with the dog trying to be part of it all.
I would remember minutes before getting into countless surgeries and waking up alive after them, so grateful for having another chance and opportunity to keep going and try to do it right that time.
I would remember the Monday nights we used to go to my mother’s house to pray the rosary as a family. Sitting around the gigantic kitchen take to have dinner together, mom’s scrumptions food, and see the whole table taken by each one of us, still dressed from work. I would remember we all then moving to the living room after taken way too much time eating, but happily finding a place to sit, choosing the rosary we liked the best and all started praying; even the little kids knew all the prayers by heart and they would proudly pray and put tears into our eyes. We would pray fervently for all that asked for our prayers and our own, truly believing everything was going to be ok, to get resolved, to be healed, to pass… and they always did.
I would remember my faith, how powerful it has always been and my ancestries and people I cared about that had already crossed the bridge and get excited with the idea of meeting them again and sharing all that they’ve missed since their departure… and I would look up and see Him, smiling; close my eyes smiling, remembering when He once told me:
– You knew it was going to be short…
And with confidence, take my last breath in gratitude for all the blessings, the graces, the opportunities, the lessons, the people I met, the family I was chosen to be part of, or that have chosen me… for all that I did, said, had, for all the seeds I’ve planted, for the ones that germinated and the ones still in hibernation and I would go happily, with a feeling of completed mission and looking forward to experiencing the eternal life and to learn more about my role there… I will be in ecstasy to finally meet our Lord and live in Heaven happily ever after, this time, for real.
Sheyla Zito
15Sep2020 12pm 1023 words from my back porch In Spring Hill, TN
