If my companions and I knew that the world was going to end tomorrow, I would throw together an early Christmas dinner, gather all the tables I could find in the house together in the dining room and invite my mother, father, uncle and grandmother; my husband’s mother, father, sister and brother-in-law; and my stepson’s mother, stepfather, maternal grandmother, and little brother. My husband and stepson would already be present, of course. I would have everyone sleep over. I would not worry if all the crumbs from breakfast were vacuumed up, if the sink was full of dishes, if we had to eat on paper plates, and if we had enough room; the important thing would be making sure that everybody grabbed a cot or sleeping bag and came to my house.
Since I come from a household of faith, the most important priority for my family and I would be to pray. To me, something as monumental as the end of the world would merit it.
The final meal… I would attempt to find some sort of turkey at the supermarket deli, pre-cooked and pre-sliced. When time is of the essence, one does not wish to spend all day gutting a huge bird, stuffing it, basting it, and constantly jabbing it with a thermometer to see if it’s done. Same goes for the ham – pre-cooked and pre-sliced. I’d find a way to whip up some candied sweet potatoes, green beans with ham hock, and cranberry sauce in a flash. I’d also select some frozen pies (mince, pumpkin, and apple) and bake them. I’d also have plenty of hot apple cider on hand. Christmas music would waft in subtly from the background. The room would be bathed in candlelight.
We would leave behind everything that made us different and share stories that some of us never knew about each other. We would share a few laughs, talk about God and, possibly, the things we might have done differently in life if we had more time.
Then… as the evening drew to a close… we might draw our beds, cots, and sleeping bags as close as we could to one another… and talk, laugh, cry or pray the night away. Perhaps none of us would sleep, wanting to wring out and imbibe the drop of time we had left together.
On a smaller scale, the world ends every day for everybody in this world. Everybody has or will lose a loved one (who means the world to someone) at some point in their lives. We all have things we still wish we were able to say or do before that person left the world; some of us are wracked with guilt and barely able to function on account of it. I suppose that leaves us with the mandate to step outside of our busyness and comfort zones more, remember the things and people that are most important to us, and never waste an opportunity to let them know they are loved beyond belief.
photo credit: <a href=”http://www.flickr.com/photos/julia_manzerova/4137027193/”>Julia Manzerova</a> via <a href=”http://photopin.com”>photopin</a> <a href=”http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-sa/2.0/”>cc</a>