15 Months

15 Months.

That’s how long Lindor Reynolds battled cancer before the monster took her.

And at 56, much too early. I wasn’t a frequent reader of Lindor’s columns, I knew of her involvement in a mutual faith denomination. In a small place like Winnipeg, where there is no more than 3 degrees of separation there was probably one or two for us, but we had never met.

But her writing and passing have affected me. A punch to  the gut was her column on August 16th of this year, and since then we waited for the other shoe to drop. It was awkward and uncomfortable – reading about someone facing their own demise, and not knowing how to react. They’ve come to grips with this, and yet it hits us unexpectedly. We read about her diagnosis, and next thing we know, she’s  saying goodbye. It’s a shock to us.

But there has been one thing that has remained with me since that August column, something that was reinforced by her passing.

15 Months

56 Years old.

What would I do if I was diagnosed with 15 months? Would I be able to cram into those remaining months all the plans, things I still want to do with my life? Would I need to revisit ( obviously), would I fill the 15 months with something else?

So that question has sat there ever since I read that August column. What would I do if I had 15 months left? And why should the answer be any different if I don’t have to face pending mortality? Shouldn’t we be living life to its fullest? As Helen Keller says “Life is either a daring adventure or nothing at all”

I’m pondering if it is a daring adventure. For how many of us is it , as Helen Keller says, is it “nothing at all”? Who defines what a daring adventure is?

So if nothing else, Lindor’s passing has made me ask – if I had 15 months left, would that be enough time to do all the things I want to do? It’s not a comfortable thing to think about, especially in detail and where it leads if the answer is no.  Sometimes the most important gifts are those that aren’t comfortable, the gifts that are uncomfortable, that make us think and re-evaluate. And for that, I say thank you Lindor, you’ve left a lasting impression.


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