What if we met our end
in the same manner we began?
Imagine that death had a gestation period:
nine months, give or take a couple weeks.
We might perceive a change in the wind…
Perhaps buy a test at the local pharmacy.
Two lines are all the indication we’d need.
An initial shock.
Fear and uncertainty.
Back to Walgreens for another test.
“…There was so much I wanted to do before this.”
The closest friends are the first to know.
Some are supportive. Others, less so.
We find new strength in our resolve.
Planning and preparation begin shortly after.
Counseling for what to expect,
for both ourselves and our loved ones.
Will this happen naturally at home?
Or will we consider a physician-assisted option?
We’ve never seen so many informational pamphlets.
Showers are held in celebration.
We gift our possessions to family and friends,
rather than the other way around.
In the final months, a photographer is hired to
capture these fleeting moments of transition.
Our eyes dart to and from the camera lens
as we exhale anxious anticipation
and mumble reaffirming phrases to ourselves.
“Who’s gonna want to see this, anyway?”
The album garners a record number of likes on Facebook.
Practice, practice, practice.
We know the route to the hospital forwards and backwards.
Everything is packed and ready to go at a moment’s notice.
Close family flies in from out of town to lend a hand.
“When are you expecting?”
“Oh, any day now.”
gratefully, after so much anticipation,
but still terrifying in its uncertainty –
quite, quite suddenly,
it is time.