Over at Zachv's blog, he ponders his last day... which got me to thinking: If I knew that today was my last day to live — and with the constraints of my current reality (what's in my bank account, and who's in my life currently) — what would I do?
Assuming that I learn of my fate early in the morning, so that I have the entire day:
I'd take a personal day at work... but would e-mail my business partner my computer's password, so that he could get to everything on the hard drive. I'd set-up a delayed e-mail to everyone in my address book with the news of my fate, my testimony of the Restored Gospel, and my appreciation for the myriad kindnesses that I've enjoyed — and I'd ask forgiveness of anything I may have done to hurt their feelings. I'd make sure that my mortgage insurance was in order, and that my sister was the beneficiary. I'd call-up Boy Wonder and insist on an early-evening date to the Kyoto restaurant for sushi. I'd clean the house and do my wash and fold everything... and I'd order flowers — a large arrangement of white star-of-bethlehem or a few dozen orange gerbera daisies — to brighten-up the condo. I love flowers.
I'd visit Åse and her husband from the ward. We'd talk about her family and I'd try my hand at a crossword puzzle... then I'd call Captain K and see if he was free for lunch. He probably wouldn't be, but we'd chat for a while and joke about stuff going on in the ward. I'd then go up to the H-House. It would probably be empty... but I'd let myself in and I'd look around for Daniel or Bryan or Sameth. They're all normally busy during the day, so I'd leave each of them a note on their beds. Op! Time to get home and let the flower boy in.
After that, I'd go for a drive — probably around by Park City.
Date with Boy Wonder... afterwards, we'd talk and snuggle for a while, then I'd send him home.
Call mom, sis, bro, and grandpa. We'd talk about nothing, and I'd be sure to tell each of them how much I love them. Call Steve, David, and Adam... we'd also talk about nothing, and I'd be sure to tell each of them how much I love them — how each of them made my life so much the better. Then, in the morning, they'd get the news that I'd died... and our last conversation had been happy and not filled with all sorts of weirdness.
I'd write a short note and leave it on my bedside table.
Shower and change into fresh bed clothes. Read a little from the Book of Mormon. Say my prayers, crack the windows open and go to sleep.
If today were your last, what would you do?