Death

And then there's death...

Listening to a discussion on the topic on Public Radio and it got me thinking. I'm picturing the scenario of somebody dear to me, on their deathbed, and my having the priceless opportunity to speak to him/her.

You've made my life better just by being in it. I'm sorry I've been so distant through the years, I haven't made the necessary effort to spend more time together. How do I reconcile such enormous selfishness with what I'm saying now? I don't know. I just know it's true, the way I feel. That you've added to my life's worth and I'm a better man for having loved you. Too often we allow those close to us to depart without a proper goodbye. I don't know if it's too late to speak these words, if it might seem to be only a cowardly thing to do, bailing myself out of future regrets, but in my heart I feel I'm being truthful and just now speaking the truth I've kept inside. Love is not a decision we make, it is merely an emotion that decides for us. From early days I've been troubled by an inability to properly deal with my emotions, and though I've tried to fight my innate tendency to hide away when uncomfortably flustered by love's tangled web, the pull of my deeply flawed character has usually won out.