Death Can Wait


It seems that eight-five years has come down to just one moment, a specific moment, when everything just stops. These moments happen everyday but that doesn’t make them any easier. A friend was a point man for the Marines during Vietnam. He told me he experienced many of these moments, where he turned a blind corner, and with no time to take a shot, he just leaned forward and his bayonet did the work. He described the moment in graphic detail, the moment when surprise morphs to disbelief and the two are eternally bound. He's made the decision, but it doesn’t make choosing the moment easier. There will always be the ‘what if we waited?’ and ‘did we wait too long?’ Would he hate me for the timing? Would he say we timed it just right? Would he call me a Mary and punch me if he could? I’m not sure we’ll ever know. But for now, we can wait, death can wait, for another moment or two.