Leo
Leo
The man in the brown suit.
Jun 30, 2014 2 min read

The Last Thing I Will Think About Moments Before I Die - Written by Lord Lansdowne

Death is an interesting if often under-discussed topic. Unfortunately, people fear that just talking death could mean their own. It's a stupid juxtaposition considering that, unless science comes up with some kind of cure, we all come with a "Best Due" date.

Have you thought about your death? Do you have a preferred way to die? Do you have a least preferred way to die? Will you be happy about the life you have lead when you die? They say that life flashes by you like a movie when you're about to die. What will you think about?

I'd like to die with a tummy full of my wife's delicious home-made food, in bed, sound asleep. I hope to never end my existence inside an out-of-control shuttle that's on fire, re-entering the atmosphere of Earth. I hope to look back at my life and see that while I may not often have succeeded, I gave it my best.

Infantile amnesia is when children lose their memories of anything that occurred prior to the age of six. Some survive, but very few are spared. We don't remember this, so very few think about it.

It is unfortunate not to remember the awe we must have felt when facing a world full of new. Why did nature decide this was a good idea? What happened to those that did remember that made their gene trait disappear? Maybe nature, harsh as her methods are, had her reasons.

The first thing I can remember is crying. I am three at most, leaving the house. I can hear my friend crying, I know I must help. As my friend lived on the street behind our house, I patiently tackled the steps of the porch, reached the sidewalk and circled the block.

His name is Michael. He has an He-Man's haircut. He is my friend. That's all I know of him now.

When I reach the other side I see him, crying on the lawn. Someone is comforting him, it's nothing serious. He's safe, he doesn't need helping. Nobody sees me, I make for home. My disappearance is only noticed when I've almost returned.

The first thing I can remember is vivid. I remember living it. I remember what I was thinking, the mind of a three year old. Of all the things that have happened in my life since, that memory, my first, stands out like a beacon.

It will be the last thing I will think about before I die.