Monday, 20 August 2012

Five Days...

This post pretty much wrote itself. What would you do if your doctor told you that you only had five days left? That, short of an organ transplant, and you’re damn sure you’d never trust a diagnostic doctor named ‘House’, you only had five days to live. What would you do? What would you say? Who would you spend those last five days with?

True story. My younger brother’s best friend from high school is living this horror now. By the time you read this those five days will most likely be up. This man I speak of was no slacker in life. An Aeronautical Engineer who was part of the team who created the Canadian space arm for the space shuttle, and father of two amazing children, ages 6 and 8, he strived and lived his life with purpose and determination. As I write this, my bro is flying across the country to be with his friend, and I salute him for his compassion and loyalty. Friends like him are hard to come by.
I thought about what I would do if I had only five days left. So, short of reciting Tim McGraw’s ‘Live like you were dying’ song, I want to share with you my last five days…

·         Gather the family for those five days. Laugh, talk, remember, toast (with top shelf scotch of course!), eat fattening food and decadent desserts, have campfires, tell jokes, and cry

·         Cook a turkey, ham and roast beef dinner, invite the neighbors over, and toast again

·         Sit on the dock and watch the sunset. Get up in the morning, turn the Muskoka chairs around, and watch the sunrise

·         Awake early to write as much as I can before the family stirs to push one last story out

·         Give out any advice while I can to my kids and grandkids

·         Get as many foot and back massages as humanly possible

·         Walk and play with the dog, cuddle and stroke the cat

·         Do a private reading of my book and record it for future generations, then upload it on You Tube

·         Hold Hubby close to me before we sleep

·         Steak and lobster on the BBQ with my BFFs, and yes, more toasting

·         Feel the sun on my face and the wind in my hair and the sand between my toes

·          Smell every flower, and weed the damn garden one more time

·         Take my last breath with those whom I love the most around me, and say good-bye with dignity and grace

Always remember: Life should not be lived, it should be celebrated!

Update: I wrote this post the end of June. Miracles do happen. My brother’s friend received a partial liver transplant from his sister. He is doing well, and getting stronger with each passing day, I’m told. His sister is doing awesome! She still has her brother, and his family still has a father and husband. You know, I don’t think even Hemmingway could have written that ending. 


  1. Oh, Sharon, you've made me all teary. I couldn't think of a better way to thoroughly live my last five days than what you suggested. Now it's time to celebrate how well your brother's friend is doing. May he have many, many years to watch the sunrises and sunsets.

    1. I know, it's a different post than I normally write. The story got me thinking about life in general and how much we all sweat the small stuff. Sometimes, we just have to open our eyes and see what's really around us. Thanks for stopping by, Sloane!

  2. What a great post! So, when you're not informative, you're inspiring. I just realized that I hadn't been following you (and fixed it).

    1. You're a doll, Rhea! Thanks for taking the time to comment and follow! Cheers!

  3. You've keyed in on all the important parts of life: friends and family (including pets), sunrises and sunsets, and positive interaction that feeds the soul.
    Thrilled to hear that your brother's friend is doing well!

    1. Agreed, Amaleen - life is all about relationships - with yourself and others. Thanks for surfing by and sharing your view! Cheers, girl!

  4. I don't think I could better your list, Sharon. And great to hear some GOOD news for a change. It comes down to a life well lived, no barriers to love and experiencing the richness of simple pleasures.

    1. That's it in a nutshell, Derek. Thank you popping over to my virtual home. Cheers!