All right, so let’s get a little personal. Mi abuela, who is nearing 90, was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s disease about 10 years ago. Also note that the disease is not called ‘all-timers.’ (Please, if you take anything from this column, please PLEASE take this: It’s Alzheimer’s, not all-timers.) Over the past several weeks it has become clear she has fewer days ahead than behind her.
The last time mi abuela and I were together was years before she was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s, but I am planning to make my way down to Florida to see her this week.
There I will see aunts, uncles and family I have not seen in years, which is sure to boost my spirits and make my grandmother feel happy even if she will not explicitly remember it.
But you know what is really crappy about this? (And it is not just my experience — it is every single time anyone gets close to death or dies that we all, out of nowhere, remember the importance of living, celebrating life, being with our loved ones.)
It is crappy that this is what forces us to finally make time to see all those people we should speak to regularly but somehow never seem to have time for. It is sad, and a little ironic, that death brings us back into life and forces us to appreciate it.
The bitch about life is that it never pauses. You cannot just take a timeout and deal with the death of a loved one or celebrate life.
This is why we must incorporate living life into our daily grind. Life is meant to be lived. What good is life if we do not get to live it?
This means staying up late tonight so you can see a friend you have not seen in years, or going out on a school night to celebrate the NEW NATIONAL CHAMPS.
Living your life and putting yourself out there is important because, as mi abuela used to always tell me, you almost always regret the things you do not do more so than the things you do — so why the hell not?
