One day I was sitting in a D.C. Metro train and saw a man with a dark beard and vacant look get off the train and leave his metal briefcase behind. Ever since then, I periodically ask myself: What if I had ten minutes to live? Yes, let’s raise those stakes. What if I had ten minutes — now nine minutes and fifty seconds — to write the last post I would ever write? What would I want to say?
I would say this to anyone reading my blog: Life is terrifying. We live moment by moment, and yet we have this notion that we can have a life plan. I might be checking my inbox when, WHAM! One of the moments I’m living comes out of nowhere and changes everything. I mean, everything.
Perhaps I get the call , “Hello. Are you the father of so and so?”
“Yes,” I mumble. “I’m sorry to have to tell you, Mr. Gray, but your child . . . .”
One moment’s passed, and I am no longer a father.
Or, the routine check-up that’s reassured me every other year —
Life is terrifying, well, because you just never know.
Blogging may help us to stay the moments — mine them for the image, idea, or feeling they hold. None of us really know how many moments we have left. We probably have more than 600, but we