There is beauty in the way that death occurs. I don't mean beauty in that it brings joy or that it creates memories that we cherish. I mean that death, like birth, is arftul, natural and certain. Every waking hour from our bloody, R-rated entrance into this cruel, crazy beautiful world is one less until our unknown exit. Some of us live in fear of it, don't ever talk about it and pretend that its just a bad dream or something that happens in a movie. Others of us test its existence. We jump out of planes, eat red meat, have promiscious sex in red light districts or do ample amounts of hard, street dealt narcotics. Then there are those of us who think of how it might go down. We think of the best possible way to go, some of us opting for a death in slumber while others prefer some daredevil accident. It doesn't really matter....because we're all going to die.
I don't care. I just wanna die pretty, not as in me looking pretty, but as in the nature of it. I wanna die having seen this world from someone else's point of view, having understood the complexities of women, having come to that solace that old age brings. You ever notice how most old people aren't afraid to die?
I was in Las Vegas one time with my fiance. In Vegas, there is a noticable abundance of elderly people. It seems a nice place to spend one's retirement. We were at this one casino, a fairly unspectacular establishment. This elderly lady won $2,000 from a slot machine. Her face lit up, her husbands face lit up. They looked like twenty year olds for about five minutes. It was as if all the cares and issues of getting older were nothing, just an aspect of life that went along with everything else. It really affected me. The truth was it had nothing to do with the money. It had to do with the moment. In that moment, the giddy teenagers didn't come back...they just came out. You never truly lose who you were. You just share that person with the older one. You're always gonna be you.
You're more you when you die than when you were born. You will die having learned what seems like a lot and really isn't very much. But what you learn defines who you are. And, when you die, who do you wanna be? That's the ultimate question. What do you hope people say and think of you when you're gone? Do you care? Should you care?
I think we all wanna die pretty, die having left something, a remnant of our soul and self, behind. I think, or like to think, that we all want to invest in one another, to love those we come across with a selfless passion. I hope that's my goal. And we're human, meaning these are goals we strive for and maybe, hopefully pray to achieve in spite of our nature. What's in a goal? What's in a dream? What's in death? For the folks we will all leave behind, there can be love in death, a love that outlives our shell of a body, a love that is louder than the weeping of grief. That's what it means to die pretty. There are different ways to go about it, various avenues to take.
One way to die pretty, my way of dying pretty, is to never give up on the pipe dreams. Never let someone say you're too old, too young, too stupid or unqualified. Never let that person ruin your ambition. You get one life, one shot, one chance. The last thing you need to do is spend it in a cubicle. The last thing you need to do is stay in one place. The last thing you need to do is die old with regrets. Live every single, solitary second with a purpose. Don't take your friends or your family for granted. Don't take yourself for granted. Fight for the kind of life your heart hurts for. If you have to die trying, feet in the mud, eyes on the prize.....that's still dying pretty.
So let's live well so we can die pretty. If you try it....I will too.
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