The Cancer Test

 "The sharp knife of a short life
Oh well, I've had just enough time

If I die young, bury me in satin
Lay me down on a bed of roses
Sink me in the river at dawn
Send me away with the words of a love song"
 - If I Die Young, by The Band Perry

 

For awhile now, I've had a question circling through my mind: if I were to die tomorrow, or find out that I had a terminal illness, would I be satisfied with my life, or feel regret?

Silently, I've called this The Cancer Test. If I were told, "You have cancer. You probably only have a few months to live," what would my reaction be? Would I pull out a bucket list of things I kept meaning to get to and try to race through them? Or would I say, "Thank you, God, for giving me a good, full life. 

There's a song that was popular for a long time called "Live Like You Were Dying". For a long time it seemed to play every hour on both country and pop radio stations. In it, a son sings about his father who went "sky-diving, rocky mountain climbing", bull-riding, and loved deeper, after being diagnosed with cancer, causing the son to sing that he hopes everyone gets the chance "to live like you were dying".

 It makes sense that when you realize time is slipping away, you want to make the most out of it. It's easy, sadly, to let the days pass by and pass by, letting concerns such as making money take up focus. So it's nice to think that we ought to live as though knowing we don't have much time left. But ... that song was popular while my Grandmother had cancer, and if my family learned one thing, it's that if you undergo chemotherapy and radiation, it's very, very hard to make the adventurous, impulsive, sweetly kept memories that the singer relates. There's bills and hospital stays and loosing one's hair. There's weakness and sickness that can make it impossible to leave home. There's fear. If I were to write the song, it would be a little sadder, and a little clearer on emphasizing the need to live like you are dying, before you are dying.

So, back to The Cancer Test. How to answer, when I ask, "Am I content with my life, or do I have regrets?" Well yes, sure, I've had regrets, but do I feel as though I've wasted time, wasted my life? No. I'm so thankful for everything. For having a closeness to my family, for deep friendships, for traveling and living in other countries and experiencing other cultures, for swimming in the ocean and jumping from an airplane and writing what's on my heart and trying new things. If I died soon, there would still be much more I would want to experience and do, but I would be so happy with what I've had.

I mentioned all of this to my brother, and he understood. He's in the midst of trying to figure out what his life should look like; dreams and goals and possible changes. With the things I still want to do, some of them are hopes such as getting married, and some of them are things I can actively pursue, like running longer distances and submitting stories for publication and thinking about what language I might want to learn after fully mastering Spanish. So yes, I want to live like I am dying, before I am dying, and I want to keep asking and checking and doing. To live as though I know the news that is about to come, because in a very real sense, I do. Death will happen, someday and somehow. We're dying a little bit each day, as some people put it. Ticking clocks and hourglasses, each of us with a set amount of time and no more. What a beautiful gift. What a wonderful life.