As If It Were My Last
In my nineteen years I have learned that death is a part of life, and without death life isn’t worth living. Every day is a new take on life and one should live every day as if he or she were going to die the next. I see the pain and suffering of others on the television and it makes me think that my life is not that bad. I try as much as possible to make my life as best as I can. I do not want any regrets when my time comes and I have to see my life flash in front of my eyes. I want to say, “Wow! Now that was fun.”
Every different person’s life takes a different path, like my great grandma who died at the age of eighty-six. She had seen so much in her life and did so much she could say that she was happy when she died. This woman saw things such as the Great Depression to 9/11 and everything in-between, and all these things seemed to put her life into prospective and set her straight. Up until several years ago when her health took a turn for the worse, she was out and about either with her friends or outside gardening and taking care of her flowers. Last May, this woman died and died with a fight.
Life is a beautiful thing and it should be cherished and used to the fullest extent. The only person who has taught me that was Granny, the woman who never stopped living in our hearts, and this I believe.
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