(Death, death, death) was apparently how Astrid Lindgren daily greeted her sister on the phone when they where talking. Partly to have that subject dealt with so that they could talk about more fun subjects, and partly to get use to life’s mortality. She said that you should live life so that you become friends with death.
I must say that it has been way too much death around me over the last few weeks. First my grand dad, then a friends son and on friday, my dog. It has had me thinking about this passing wind called life. How I want to live it, to the full, without regrets. And how I don’t want to live it, scared and anxious about something that in a years time will be completely forgotten about.
It also had me thinking about the poem Nigel read in his friends bathroom when he was sixteen, that he is still carrying around in his wallet.
If I had to live my life over again
I’d dare to make more mistakes next time.
I’d relax, I would limber up.
I would be sillier than I have been this trip.
I would take fewer things seriously.
I would take more chances.
I would climb more mountains and swim more rivers.
I would eat more ice cream and less beans.
I would perhaps have more actual troubles,
but I’d have fewer imaginary ones.
You see, I’m one of those people who live
sensibly and sanely hour after hour,
day after day.
Oh, I’ve had my moments,
And if I had it to do over again,
I’d have more of them.
In fact, I’d try to have nothing else.
Just moments, one after another,
instead of living so many years ahead of each day.
I’ve been one of those people who never goes anywhere
without a thermometer, a hot water bottle, a raincoat
and a parachute.
If I had to do it again, I would travel lighter than I have.
If I had my life to live over,
I would start barefoot earlier in the spring
and stay that way later in the fall.
I would go to more dances.
I would ride more merry-go-rounds.
I would pick more daisies.