The last time I wrote, I was feeling unwell. I finished my post and I mentioned on social media that I wasn’t feeling well and I went and laid down on my sofa.
Now when you are pushing 50, chest pains, you take seriously. I have a history of acid reflux so I knew that might be possible.
I laid down and I began to pray. Funny thing, I didn’t pray for me. I prayed that if I didn’t make it through the night that he would comfort my parents. I prayed that God would let my person know that I loved him more than words can ever say. That if I didn’t make it, he would know someone died loving him. That he would let my girls remember me and how much I loved them. That he would let them grow up to be smart, strong, intelligent women. Then, I prayed that if I had not lead a life pleasing to him that he would forgive me where I failed.
I never once prayed that I would be spared. I never prayed that the pain would leave. I just prayed for those that I love more than anything.
After, I finished, I laid there and focused on my breathing. I knew why I had laid down on the sofa, if someone had to come looking for me, I would be easy to find. They would see me quickly.
Obviously, I awoke the next day. I slept 14 hours but I did wake up. No one had called to check on me. A day later my aunt asked me what was going on.
The lingering thought in my mind from this is, do I tell those people around me enough how I feel about them. Do I say I love you enough, for that day will surely come for all of us, that we don’t open our eyes again. The only thing you leave behind is love.