Live Each Event as Your Last

On Thursday, September 19, Cindy and I celebrated our 33rd anniversary. I planned to make this day special by pushing Cindy in the stroller up the old wagon road to the peak of Haystack Mountain. From there I would carry her up the stairs of Haystack Tower to the top, providing for her one last panoramic view of the town she loves.

I did some advanced preparation for this. Our oldest daughter and son-in-law were coming down for the occasion to help out as needed. A week earlier I went through a trial run of pushing Cindy up to the base of the tower. The day before I enlisted a friend from college, whom I had not seen for forty years, to stand in for Cindy as I practiced different ways of carrying her up a few steps of the tower. My remaining need was for the weather to cooperate.

Things do not always go as planned. In this case, the weather was too perfect, about 68 degrees, not a breath of wind, not a cloud in the sky. I faced the reality that, while carrying Cindy up the tower might make for a good story, she might not enjoy the experience of being carried up so many stairs. Nor could we spend much time on top enjoying the view.

I changed the plan, jogging with Cindy up to the broad table land on top of Dennis Hill. Dennis Hill does not provide the panorama of Haystack, but you do not need to climb a tower to get the view. Cindy and I spent well over an hour on top of Dennis Hill, eventually joined by our “support crew” bringing the food we ordered from the pub for a nice picnic. This was part of spending our anniversary as if we were “living each day as our last.”

The charge to live each day as your last prompts some skeptical questions. How does one do that? For how long is that realistically possible? Ironically, if one could do that every single day then doesn’t that become routine? Does living each day as your last become anticlimactic?

Routine has been my friend in this situation. Routine helps me do caregiver tasks in an efficient manner. Routine helps me incorporate brain health elements into each day. Routine gives me mileposts that keep the day from dragging. I do not know if I could do this without routine. Yet following a routine does not come to mind as the goal for living each day as your last.

In my mind, the desired alternative would be to “live each event as our last.” In May of 2015 we had a wonderful long distance hiker’s reunion and celebrated Cindy’s distinction as an Honorary Triple Crown recipient. She wept with joy at the presentation. In February of 2016 we had a large birthday celebration for Cindy, well representative of the various communal hats Cindy wore. She again was moved deeply.

These and other events were prompted by concerns of having limited time left. Indeed, three years ago I started planning for Cindy’s memorial service. I feel a little sheepish about that now but, on the other hand, this premature mindset dictates how I approach each event in our lives.

Three years ago we celebrated our thirtieth anniversary with me confessing I had doubts Cindy would last that long. In theory our 33rd anniversary should be our last, considering that Cindy is on hospice. In theory we could start treating each day as our last, as the probability increases for that happening, but who knows. No matter whether the time left is long or short, my approach will stay the same. We will adhere to a daily routine that makes the best of our situation, while experiencing joy from living each event as our last.