Thursday, April 3, 2008 7:19 PM

It's quite strange that you have absolutely no control over the one definite thing which would happen to you only once in life, death. Well not if you plan to take your own life, which is also deemed as unforgivable and wrong. I still wonder how i'll die. I mean, you Will die, somehow, someday. and there are so many ways you could meet death. I wonder if i'll be shocked at the way i died when i'm at the splitting transition of life to death. Now i wonder if i'll even know how i died. I wonder who would be at my funeral. I wonder what everyone would be thinking then. I wonder how it'd feel like to lose me.

After 21 years of marriage, my wife wanted me to take another woman
out to dinner and a movie.
She said, "I love you, but I know this other woman loves you and would
love to spend some time with you."

The other woman that my wife wanted me to visit was my Mother, who has
been a widow for 19 years, but the demands of my work and my three
children had made it possible to visit her only occasionally.

That night I called to invite her to go out for dinner and a movie.
"What's wrong, are you well," she asked?
My Mother is the type of woman who suspects that a late night call or
a surprise invitation is a sign of bad news.

"I thought that it would be pleasant to spend some time with you, "I
responded "just the two of us." She thought about it for a moment, and
then said, "I would like that very much."

That Friday after work, as I drove over to pick her up I was a bit
nervous. When I arrived at her house, I noticed that she, too, seemed
to be nervous about our date. She waited in the door with her coat on.
She had curled her hair and was wearing the dress that she had worn to
celebrate her last wedding anniversary.

She smiled from a face that was as radiant as an angel's. "I told my
friends that I was going to go out with my son, and they were
impressed," she said, as she got into the car. "They can't wait to
hear about our meeting." We went to a restaurant that, although not
elegant, was very nice and cozy. My Mother took my arm as if she were
the First Lady.

After we sat down, I had to read the menu. Her eyes could only read
large print. Half way through the entries, I lifted my eyes and saw
Mother sitting there staring at me. A nostalgic smile was on her lips.
"It was I who used to have to read the menu when you were small, "she
said.

"Then it's time that you relax and let me return the favor," I
responded. During the dinner, we had an agreeable conversation nothing
extraordinary but catching up on recent events of each other's life.
We talked so much that we missed the movie. As we arrived at her house
later, she said, "I'll go out with you again, but only if you let me
invite you."
I agreed.

"How was your dinner date?" asked my wife when I got home. "Very nice,
Much more so than I could have imagined," I answered.

A few days later, my Mother died of a massive heart attack. It
happened so suddenly that I didn't have a chance to do anything for
her. Some time later, I received an envelope with a copy of a
restaurant receipt from the same place Mother and I had dined. An
attached note said: "I paid this bill in advance. I wasn't sure that I
could be there; but nevertheless, I paid for two plates - one for you
and the other for your wife. You will never know what that night meant
for me. I love you, son."

Sometimes we get so carried away with life that we need a simple story to pull us back, to help us remember what life really is. I think that being a parent would be one of the most challenging things in life. Its demands are crazy and i'm unsure of my ability to carry such responsibility. In fact, what makes a good parent? And how would i ever forgive myself if i fail to be one. I think it takes such courage sometimes.

Goodness i'm only eighteen, the A levels are pounding on me and i've already skipped everything, even marriage to think about raising kids. But i guess the older you get, the more you lose faith in certain things and at the same time, you believe in more things, such as, staying together for the kids.

The song i'm currently stuck on: