10 Minutes

As I was washing the dishes this morning, pondering all that I'd done this day already, yet regretful that I had not accomplished more, an interesting thought popped into my head.

What if God told me I had only ten minutes to live? What would I do in those ten minutes? This question, as all questions that fly through my brainwaves, included a stipulation. I would be notified of the ten minutes in whatever I was doing at that moment, for example, sitting at my computer at home, at school, in the car, and whether I was with my family, friends, or alone, and that would be my only warning.

First thought was that I must call my family. I was alone as I had this contemplation, so of course I would start with my husband, my children, my mother, my father, my sisters, and before I knew it, I would be out of ten minutes. It would be very difficult to tell each person what they mean to me and to express my love. How about a group text? But that would not be fair, or very nice, unless I just told them all that I love each one of them very much.

Then, typical of me, food popped into my head, the last meal, and with my eyes closed, as I rinsed off the green lettuce holder, I scanned the inside of my pantry, the freezer and the refrigerator. Since I recently ate some fresh eggs from my mother's chickens, served with sauteed onions, mushrooms, spinach, corn tortilla and garlic, sprinkled with cheese and served with a piece of buttery white toast, the Snickers bar frozen treat in my freezer appeared very satisfactory.

And because earlier in the week I discussed with my husband that Australia was on my bucket list to visit, I wistfully pondered that I would like to have gone there before I passed. Going somewhere when I only had ten minutes to live, unless I was already there, did not seem very likely, which leads to my answer of what I would do if I was told that I only had ten minutes to live.

I would first thank God for an awesome life, and for giving me several opportunities to keep on living. With two close-to-death experiences, I believe I am less afraid of death than some. Then, I think I would keep on doing what I was doing, washing the orange frying pan, folding clothes, walking the dog or making deviled eggs. I would certainly call Kevin and my children to tell them that I loved them very much, and maybe have a second Snickers bar.