I’m reaching that age when one’s body starts to fall apart. It could happen any day — that first stroke, that first cancer diagnosis. I can’t pretend that it’s not going to happen. I’m so blessed that it hasn’t happened yet.
As a result, I am savoring every moment of happiness. My family is a source of infinite joy in each moment. I want to squeeze the last drop of happiness out of the present.
But when that first death knell sounds, I will be ready. My goal will be the happiness of my family and others, and I will do whatever it takes for them. I’m not talking the big things; rather, it’s the small hugs, smiles, favors, etc. that count.
Even in my dying breath, I can still smile and say “I love you”, to bring that little bit of happiness into someone’s life.
As you know, I live in Cambodia, a thoroughly Buddhist country. Most of my life I have adhered to the Buddhist philosophy of detachment, of avoiding need and dependence, the causes of suffering. But you know, the Buddha abandoned his wife and baby son. I wouldn’t do that, nor would most Cambodians, who dearly love their families. On the contrary, my recent philosophy, and that of most Cambodians, is that of the old Barbara Streisand song: “People who need people are the luckiest people in the world.”
The future Buddha sneaks away from his wife and baby son: “The Great Escape”
I loved my daughter, who died of cancer at the age of 7. My feeling today is that “It is better to have loved and lost, than never to have loved at all.” To have lived a life without love is not to have lived at all.
So today, on my birthday, as I contemplate my demise, I am still happy in the moment, and I can continue to make my loved ones happy. It will be worth the effort.