How quickly we enter into the realm of the dead.
A hero for a moment. Or in death. People gather to celebrate life, commiserate and maybe silently offer up a thought that they are secretly pleased it wasn’t them this time.
No matter. It is fitting that they gather to acknowledge the achievements, the frailties and the quirky bits of a human life. And the more the beer flows, the better the memories are – or so it would seem.
I hope for nothing more than for someone ( or maybe more than one person) to say something about what I have done, experienced and achieved on my time on earth.
We live, we love, we hate, we procreate, and to what purpose? What impact does one actually have?
I sit here at this wake, awaiting the significant other in my life. Making eye contact with those who have done me wrong. Those who no longer accept me as a blood relative. Regretful for what could have been however I am now my own person and that’s ok.
Nothing like a death or two to put life into perspective. Life is life. Death is death. And the world moves on.
Sitting alongside a man who wasted much of the last few years of his wife’s time on earth fighting a lost cause. Yet here he is, a year later. He has moved on to a new relationship. Did his first wife ever realize that she would be usurped quite so quickly?
Another man with the dreaded C diagnosis yet he is busy circulating amongst his guests. Does he stop to think that the next funeral may be his?? Or has he decided to live for the moment, and enjoy life with his mates as he has always known it to be. Shouldn’t we or don’t we all do just that? No regrets.
Surround yourself with familiar faces. Enjoy the happy memories and ignore what’s yet to come. What else can we do? Life is for the living, isn’t it?? After all, we don’t get out of this life alive.
Life is full of regretful happenings.
This is a response to a Flash Fiction prompt from ‘Putting My Feet In the Dirt’, July Writing Prompts hosted by ‘M’