Live for today...

I am haunted today by the image of a burning car that we happened upon just as we crossed the Interstate bridge yesterday, coming home from a weekend away.  As I later learned, there was a four car accident about 20 minutes earlier, and the burning vehicle took one life. I keep thinking about the person who was dead in the fire that we saw from a quarter mile away. I don't know if they were male or female, an elder or a teen. I don't know if they were late for work, or headed to their mom's for dinner. Maybe they were going on a date, or had just split up from someone who wasn't good for them.  I can speculate about the people who waited, thinking, "it's not like them to be late..."  All I can be fairly sure of is that they didn't leave the house yesterday thinking they would die.

Early in recovery, I wondered what I'd do if I knew my life was ending. I assumed I would drink - why not, right? My dad did. After 13 years sober, he drank when he learned that his cancer was terminal. He had good years sober - the best of their life together, my mom used to say. But he sometimes remarked that he wished he could have a beer, or a highball, that he wished that he wasn't an alcoholic. He didn't have any kind of spiritual solace, so that when he was told to get his affairs in order, he turned to the only thing he could think of that would offer relief from his fears and his anger.  I believe he regretted that choice. I know that my mom did.  I am so sorry to think of his pain, a pain I didn't have language for at 25, when my own alcoholism was at full throttle.

I've since known several people in recovery who've made the decision to go out sober. I think of dear Kathy, who sold her life insurance policy in order to travel while she still could.  And Mark, one of the early long-term survivors of HIV/AIDS who practiced what he called "celluloid therapy" (movies) when his spirits needed lifting. Or Cathleen C, who chose to forego chemotherapy and do her best to accept the reality of her situation. They were strong examples of living in the moment.

Buddhists say that we should live each day aware of the impermanence of this fragile human life. That isn't too far removed from our "one day at a time" philosophy.  Am I making today a good day? Am I living in such a manner that if this were my final day, I would die without regrets?  I'm not sipping tea in London, or trekking in the Olympic National Forest, but I can say that on a day doing laundry, a day appreciating time with a friend over the weekend, a day of gratitude for my marriage, I am right with the world.  Do I want this to be my last day? No. There is a lot I still hope to do. But seeing the aftermath of that accident yesterday has me appreciating the simple moments of today.

Be safe out there. Tell your loved ones that you care. Remember that it really is just one day at a time.