My best friend had open heart surgery yesterday. Knowing this, she changed her “death day” to 2/12/25. This made the “Year to Live” social experiment all the more real. On Sunday, while most of the world was watching the Super Bowl, we reviewed the different scenarios within an Advance Directive. Would you want a tracheostomy? Would you want to survive if you were paralyzed from the waist down? Would you want a permanent PEG tube placement? Practicing saying goodbye the day before her ‘death day’ reiterated to me just how important she was in my life and how much I loved her as a friend.
The surgery went smoothly, thankfully. But during those hours when she was intubated and unable to communicate, I realized that one of the hardest parts of losing someone was the inability to talk to them. There were tiny things that happened during the day- jokes or things I wanted to text her- that I knew she wouldn’t be able to receive.
I had a brief sense of what most experience when they lose a loved one for good. I’d taken for granted the small, seemingly insignificant exchange of words sprinkled throughout the day that we could always share. The memes, inside jokes, new ideas, and random stories that I knew only she would understand.
Now that the surgery has gone smoothly, every day feels like a gift. I have another moment to appreciate her. Another chance to make more memories. Another opportunity to tell her yet again how much I love her.
When we practice saying goodbye to our loved ones, we welcome a newness and appreciation for the life we share with them while they’re still here.