Reflections on Fleeting Time
The one essay you should read today
“Man has here two and a half minutes—one to smile, one to sigh, and half a one to love; for in the midst of this minute he dies.” — Jean Paul, 1795
Last month, I wrote about preparing for the inevitable, whether in life or in work. Perhaps you read it.
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There’s another essay — one that’s much more personal, detailed, and worthy of your time — that I’d like to present.
Last year, Jack Thomas, a longtime journalist for The Boston Globe, wrote a powerful and poignant essay on being diagnosed with terminal cancer. It was published in The Boston Globe Sunday Magazine on July 21, 2021.
It’s simple yet gorgeous writing that captures the heart of his own situation, but that could easily reflect any of our own, substituting details that are specific to our experiences.
As the saying goes, fate has dealt me one from the bottom of the deck, and I am now condemned to confront the question that has plagued me for years: How does a person spend what he knows are his final months of life?
I KNOW THAT AFTER I DIE, I probably ought to forget all the treats of this life, like Lobster Savannah dinners on an expense account at an Elysium such as Locke-Ober, and with my luck, there’s probably some rule against chilled Hendrick’s martinis with a lemon twist. There will be no more nights of winnowing the hours away listening to Bob Winter’s piano at the Four Seasons. There’ll be no more lazy afternoons on Boston Harbor aboard my little sailboat, The Butterfly, and no more surprise telephone calls from buddies like Dave Manzo in Boston, Alan Pergament in Buffalo, and Jim Coppersmith in Marblehead, who never hang up without saying, “I love you, Jack.”
I just wish I could stay a little longer.
He titled it quite simply: “I Just Learned I Only Have Months to Live. This is What I Want to Say.”
Jack Thomas died on October 3, 2022.
You can read the whole thing here.
There’s so much to learn,
