I received this heart-wrenching but charming e-mail from a family member. After reading it and digesting its message I made myself a promise to do my best to follow the path this article laid out for me. Some of the items will be difficult for me to adhere to but others are, as they say, no-brainers, one particularly. In the poet’s words, when the path I travel diverges in two different directions I’ll choose the one least traveled, rather than follow the crowd.
This is the article I received:
One evening a long-married couple retired for the night, but only one awakened the next morning. On that cold clear morning in the warmth of their bedroom, the survivor was struck with the realization and the pain of knowing that sometimes there are “no mores.”
No more hugs, no more special moments to celebrate together, no more phone calls just to chat, no more “just one minute.”
Sometimes someone we care for the most gets all used up and goes away, never to return, before we could say good-bye or say “I love you.”
So while we have it, it’s best to love it, care for it, fix it when it’s broken and heal it when it’s sick.
This is true for marriage and old cars, and children with bad report cards, and dogs with bad hips, and aging parents and grandparents.
We keep them because they are worth it and because we are worth it.
Some things we keep, like a best friend who moved away or a sister-in-law after divorce. There are just some things that make us happy, no matter what.
Life is important, like people we know who are special, and so we keep them close.
Suppose one morning we never wake up? Do all our family members and our friends know we love them?
The important thing is to let every one of them know we love them, even if we think they don’t love us back.
And just in case I’m gone tomorrow,
Please vote against Obama.