A Topic of Accumulated Interest

Fark.com had an interesting thread today, which posed the question: What do you want your famous final words to be. Far be it from farkers, especially non-truefarkers to take anything about it seriously, the thread is filled with nerdy movie quotes, nerdy book quotes, nerdy music quotes and "boobies".

I know, I know. Fark is the pinnacle of anonymous news and comment posting, and unless you've met any of these people in real life... say... at a fark party, there's no accounting for what is being said in the forums.

But I digress.

Imagine for a minute...

Your family and what's left of your friends have surrounded you. Cancer, the doctor explained. After a few months, it's progressed quickly. There wasn't much they could do, it had already spread so much. You didn't want to go to the doctor, but you couldn't breathe that day.

They've come to say goodbye. Each looks upon you, some are uncomprehending on how you're taking it so well. "Everyone gets cancer if they live long enough," you used to say. Now, saying things has become difficult. It's too hard to move your mouth, it drains you. Your communication has become a one way line. They've stopped asking questions, when they knew all you were doing was shifting your head in a nod, to simple acknowledge that you had heard what they said to you.

You know that the pity people once felt for you has shifted to relief, and sadness. Your children know that there is nothing they can do, and are grateful for everything you've done for them. They understand everything, now. And your grandchildren know only disappointment. Their parents have explained to them what death means and that you're not going to wake up from this.

You smile weakly at your friends. There are less here than you remember. Some couldn't make it, for many reasons. They make a frail attempt to smile at you. Your death reminds them of many things. You had good times together. You've shared a lot; drinks... stories... life. But your death also reminds them of their friends now passed. And others passing. And their own mortality. You smile to remind them that this is life. There is nothing to be afraid of from here.

You take your last breath. It is a jagged inhalation. Deeper than the others you'd struggled thru. No one wants to scare you, but they've all turned to you.

You feel relieved, you know that this breath will be proceeded by no other. That this is your last opportunity to impart wisdom, or to express regret, or a hidden feeling... love or hate... remorse. To confess? Repent?

"I'll never forgive Fox for canceling FireFly."