Final Hours: Part 1

3 HOURS: I just got out of a lovely hot bath that my sweetie set up for me complete with candles, a glass of my favorite red wine (Menage a Trois), some yummy body scrub, bubbles and the book I'm currently reading (The Dancing Wu Li Masters). Mmmmmmm, what a treat! I used to read in the tub all the time but haven't done so in a very, very long time. And actually, I only read a page or so from the book just before I got out...

I was so enticed by the hot water and the bubbles when I got into the tub that I forgot all about the book. Instead, I enjoyed rolling the water and bubbles over my body with my hands and splashing around on my back, watching the way the candle light danced on it all. Then I rolled over onto my belly and something unexpected happened: I began to weep. I wept from somewhere deep down in my belly for several minutes. I don't know why and it wasn't important at the time; I just wept.

[NOTE: How appropriate: I'm hearing spurts of group-blood-curdling screams in the air as I type this... having to do with a nearby Halloween "haunted house" I suspect.]

As I reflect on it now, I felt full of love in that moment as I wept. I felt full of all the love that went into creating that bath for me; I felt full of all the love that has been a part of my life these 46 years; I felt full of all the love I'm leaving behind in the world...

As I glanced around our tiny bathroom, I saw signs of my life everywhere: the shower curtain I painted; a piece of art I painted and one that I bought; my robe hanging on the back of the bathroom door; my towel; the red toilet seat cover and rug I bought.... signs of my life; signs that I was (am) here. "How long will it take for all those little signs to disappear?"