“I want to live another 6,570 days,” she said.
“Not me.” he replied. “I would like to live forever.”
“But that might get tiresome,” she said.
“Then I choose just one more. please.”
~ Beulah Peyton Bouzane
from the BoBo Collection
We sat on the porch and just talked. The air was still a little nippy but it was sunny and the birds were singing – just the right type of day to sit and contemplate life. I always believed in “life” and I’d never wasted time thinking of death – my death that is. Oh, don’t get me wrong. I know it is inevitable and I always wanted to have things in order so there wouldn’t be unanswered questions or bothersome decisions for others. But to actually think I would run out of days? No, I had never really given thought to that.
That morning was different. We had just received word that our cousin had died – sudden and unexpected. We were all in a state of shock really. Two days before, the family had been together for a 100th birthday celebration. Grandma, as she is to known to most of us, is an amazing person, so full of life and still out and about enjoying every moment. It had been such a wonderful day. And, then came the news about our cousin. She was soon to be 65 and had intended to retire in June.
“How old do you have to be to die? He said
and I said, I didn’t think anybody was ever old enough.”
~ Brian Andreas
It was no wonder that it triggered such a deep and thought-provoking conversation. There it was, a life-timer with each grain of sand representing days, not minutes – six thousand five hundred seventy. When you think about it like that, it is quite a sensible number.
And then I wondered,
“Would it be enough?”
Some years ago she gave me her recipe for peanut brittle. I think I’ll make some today.
