I Am Going To Die

… So Are You

Last week, an elderly family member of mine chose MAID, medical assistance in dying.

The night before, they told everyone that this would be their last night on earth. They would be dying the next morning.

They were 95, lived a long life and did things very much on their own terms. They had been in pain for many months, age and other medical conditions meant there were few options left to manage it.

They decided that this was their final page.

Two days later I turned on the news to see random violent incidents around the world that took the lives of many. People that were peaceful and not expecting that to be their last day. It's not that each day incidents of violence don't happen or that people lose their lives. That is happening right now as I write these words and as you later are reading them.

What it struck in me was the polarity of it. I was contemplating what it is like to know and actually choose when you die versus the dramatic end that comes for many each day, the not knowing and often likely, not finishing of things.

Having recently published Tightrope, where I write about many kinds of death, sudden, violent, slow, expected, and unexpected. I found myself thinking less about death itself and more about the choices when we are alive.

We all start the same way, coming into the world with nothing.

And we all end the same way, leaving with nothing, despite our best efforts, you can't take all those belongings with you.

We are born, we live and eventually, we die.

Each of our lives is a storybook. The beginning and the ending are already written. That last page is coming no matter what we do. The point of the book isn’t to pretend otherwise or to write some fantasy that avoids the ending altogether. The point is what we write on every page in between.

Here’s the other truth: You are never told how many pages your story gets.

Everyone around you is writing their own book too, same beginning, same ending, wildly different journeys in between. Different chapters. Different plot twists. Different lengths.

I’m 54 years old. While writing Tightrope, I had a real epiphany: I can’t go back and rewrite a single page.

I can reread them. I can reflect on them, sometimes fondly, sometimes with regret or discomfort, but I cannot change the words, the actions, the choices. Those pages were written on the days they happened, and I turned them at night.

What can happen, though, is the moment you realize that you are the author of your life.

You are writing your story every single day. You get to choose much of what goes onto each page, how you respond, what you prioritize, who you invest in, what you pursue. And then there are moments when other people’s stories crash into yours.

A momentary lapse in judgment. A text while driving. A phone call that changes everything.

After nearly 27 years in policing, I have seen beautiful stories come to heartbreaking ends. I’ve also seen people trapped in repeating chapters, pages of despair they couldn’t seem to turn, even when they desperately wanted to.

What I know now is this: there are still many chapters I want to write.

There are experiences I want to have. People I want to meet. Moments I want to fully live. Like you, I am going to die one day. I have no idea how many pages I have left, but I have a pretty good idea of what I want written on them when I’m gone.

So here’s my question for you, if you’ve stayed with me this far:

What do your earlier pages look like?

And even more important, what do you want written on the pages you haven’t reached yet?

Because you don’t know how many you get.

If you want a promotion, start writing that chapter now, build the skills, take the training, ask for the mentorship.

If there’s a conflict you’ve been carrying, put it on your story list, invite the conversation, grab the coffee, say the thing that needs to be said. If you’re not sure what you want, start with what brings you joy and write that onto every page.

Kiss the people you love. Hug your kids. Text your best friend. Cook something new. Watch the sunrise or the sunset. Both count.

You will have hard chapters. Everyone does. Illness. Loss. Uncertainty. Those pages will be written whether you want them or not. But you can choose what surrounds them, what brings you peace, what helps you keep turning the page.

I once heard an analogy that stuck with me: If we all stood in a circle and threw our problems into the middle, once you saw everyone else’s, you’d scramble to get your own back.

So, what’s on your story list? And where do you want your adventure to go next?

Because today, whether you realize it or not, you’re writing another page today.