Make the best of it…

Yesterday, I read a quote from a friend Robert who I know from my hometown and high school, John F Kennedy, in Iselin, NJ.

His quote struck a chord so deep it hit my core. It said, “Once conscious of life’s end we make the best of it!” RWB

Holy shit! It was like that quote woke me up and made me realize what’s been going on since my mother Eileen died back in October. I haven’t written anything about my mother’s death and rarely speak if it. 

I say died because when I walked into the comfort care room with the nurse at the care facility 30 seconds after she died I said, “Oh no, she’s dead.” 

My mother didn’t pass away peacefully in her sleep like I imagined she would. The look of terror and fear in her wide open dead eyes was shocking to me. The expression on the rest of her face, that was turned facing the door I walked through has haunted me since that night. 

The image I saw looked just like or worse than any Halloween corpse mask I had ever seen. When I was in her room with the staff gathering together some of her items to take home I would forget and turn around or look up and see it over and over. 

Every day I have to get rid of that last image of my mother. I am sad that it is the last thing I saw but then again she always left me upset whenever I visited while she was alive; this was just the icing on the cake. I kept thinking she got me good this time. The last time.

After reading Robert’s quote many things about that image make sense now. That image showed me what the end of someone’s life really looks like. Maybe that’s why it terrified me so much. 

The only dead people I have ever seen have been in an open casket in a funeral parlor. The last time I saw my dad in his casket was extremely difficult and upsetting but at least he looked like he was peacefully sleeping. 

Marty and Sam have seen their share of dead people over the years on the rescue squad. Marty was an assistant medical examiner for a couple of years and Sam is a nurse. When I say their share, I mean a lot.

When I told them what my mother looked like they told me that’s how dead people look. Ok, not helping fellas. I felt sheltered and stupid. I always knew I wasn’t cut out for the medical field, now I was 100% certain.

After seeing what the end of one’s life looks like I did become conscious of it without me knowing. I told myself during the pandemic I was going to make the best of the life I have right now. We don’t know when that day will be so we better make the most of it.

Since then, I’ve gone to NYC twice in one month to see my favorite play Hamilton with Marty and again with my sister Jennifer. All I could think of while I was in the city was, “Why in fucks name did it take you so long to come back dummy?” I am talking about the decade before the pandemic so that’s not an excuse. 

Tonight, we are going to our first concert since the pandemic. It’s a hard rock concert in Glen’s Falls, NY. We are seeing the bands Seether and Breaking Benjamin whom we have seen a few years back.

When Marty asked me if I wanted to go I didn’t hem and haw about it like I normally would have. I said yes right away. He asked me a few days ago if I wanted to go see another band this summer I’ve been dying to see. I bounced around the house saying, “Yes!”

Robert’s quote came from the death of his own mother this time last year. In that time he decided he was going to lose weight, which he has lost 60 lbs so far and to do an activity for exercise he would enjoy. 

He picked dirt bike riding as his exercise.  My son Noah who dirt bikes told me a while ago that people don’t realize how physical a sport it is. Robert can dirt bike and spend time with his son while they are both getting in a fun workout. Good for them!

Now when that final image of my mother pops into my head, instead of telling it to go away, I’ll thank it for reminding me to do the things I want to do and go to the places I want to travel to. To live my life now and have fun. 

“Once you become conscious of life’s end you make the best of it!”

Thanks so much to my friend Robert Wilson Barnes of Greenville, SC for letting me share his quote and story. 🙂