If there’s one thing that most people of a certain age pray for, it is to extend the time left available to them.
Having had so many near misses and close escapes and sailing far too near the edge of the precipice, I can fully agree to this sentiment. So often on flights to foreign climes, where the pilots appear to still be in training, if you are not sitting upright and facing forward, their style of landing their craft often feels like the altimeter has been set ten feet below zero as they bury their plane into the tarmac! Woe betide anyone sitting half turned looking out the window, as you’ll end up in traction for the next month! Prayer suddenly becomes the main focus of the entire passenger list, hoping that the god they profess not to believe in, suddenly becomes the benevolent benefactor to save them in their hour of distress……
So the question remains, how much time is classed as ‘just a little more’? If we knew when the end was to be, would we every single day live life to the full, or squander the time available, until it was too late and then bemoan the fact that we’ve run out? Do we, at the end of each day, draw the curtains on a day that nothing else could be crammed into, or are we left feeling, as our head hits the pillow, that we really could have done more?
I have seen things that most people will hopefully never have to see in their whole lifetime, however long or short that might be, and if this has taught me one thing, it is to grab hold of every opportunity offered and to fill every moment as wisely as possible, so that eventually, in the fullness of time, when the Reaper of the grim variety comes calling, I can look back and say that I have chased every rainbow available, climbed to the summit of every mountain to which Matron has said “and now we walk”, and maximised every chance given, in so doing, I can faithfully say that my time has been used up, worn out and this remnant is handed back, well used!
For all those of you bothering to take any notice whatsoever, I’ve been under the gimlet eye of Matron over the last week. Confined to quarters for some of the days and not allowed out to play on the others, a manful effort was made to escape on Saturday last and the price was paid for such folly. Needless to say, this week has been a case of only being allowed to do the bare minimum necessary, then back to bed for recuperative purposes. It has been at times of lowest ebb that one’s thoughts turn to the hereafter, the great unknown, the abyss that stands sentinel at the farthest reach of life’s last hurrah! From the alpha-scream of childbirth heralding a new chapter, to our final fandango omega-gasp, the duration of which is known to no one, our cry remains…….”Give me just a little more time…”
Carry on Regardless!