If Tomorrow Never Comes

Not so long ago, I had a dream. Like most dreams, at the time you don't realise it's a dream, it all seems perfectly real.

Picture the scene - I'm in a doctor's office, getting the results of some complicated tests to discover just what the hell is wrong with me. But it's not good news, and in short it boils down to one sentence:

"You have six months to live."

Now I was dreaming, but those are powerful words in any setting. What's your first reaction? What is the single, instant, primeval urge that you have when you know that the clock is already counting down?

In my case, my reaction was "I've got to write the book." - I've got so much to do... six months just not long enough, but first and foremost.. I've got to write the book.

I wonder if that would be my reaction for real. I hope not to find out.

The dream made me rather thoughtful for much of the following day, but eventually its full effect evaporated with time. I was reminded about it today, by reading about an American Talk Radio host called Bob Lassiter. I'd never heard of him before, and the only reason that I heard of him today is because he died on Friday.

It's sad when people die. Understatement. And although I didn't even know of Bob until today, it turns out that for just over a year, Bob kept a blog. The word is that, despite, or perhaps because of, his celebrity, Bob was really quite a private person. It wasn't until February 14th this year that he spoke of the worst possible news that he'd received from his doctor that day. And while there may be nothing more morbid than reading the writings of a man who knows that he's going to die, I find his words to have the same kind of thought-provoking qualities, to be the same kind of wake up call, as my imaginary doctor's visit.

Bob said so much before signing off on September 19th, "to make the remainder of this journey in private." And I haven't even begun to scratch the surface of what he had to say. But his words on September 13th in particular gave me cause to pause, to reflect, and yes, to weep, for a man I never knew. Death is never a happy subject - understatement - but sometimes it is worth thinking about, to be reminded that in all our lives there is still so much more to do. It can be so easy to forget, and the realisation of how valuable each day is can so easily not be apparent until it's just too late.

There is so much more to do.