The Correct Answer

Okay, so I'm doing my usual Sunday Search for inspiration and/or enlightenment and I come across this post. About halfway down the page, there's this paragraph:

"...ask yourself this question: When I’m on my deathbed, what will I regret most about my life? I doubt anyone on their deathbed ever said, “I wish I would have worked more hours. I wish I would have gotten that last sale. I wish I had even more money in my bank account.” Elizabeth Kubler Ross, author of the book On Death and Dying, asked people on their deathbeds this very question. What was their response? The number one response was: I wish I would have taken more chances. I feel like I lived my life playing it too safe. The number two response was: I wish I would have taken more time to reflect. I never stopped and smelled the roses in life. How would you answer this question?"

To me, deathbed questions are always kind of skeezy because, well, look at where you are - you're on your deathbed, for crying out loud. Who wants to deal with a bunch of people asking them questions when they're dying? What's more, look at the kind of questions they ask. What will I regret most about my life?

Geez, how much time do I have?

And the answers listed above are just wrong, wrong, wrong. What does it mean when someone who can't take chances anymore says they wished they'd taken more chances in their life? Nothing, that's what it means. If you had a magic wand and waved it in front of them and said "Okay, you're healed. Now go out and take some chances", do you know what they'd say?

"Are you kidding? Take chances? That's how people get killed!"

It reminds me of my Catholic upbringing and being taught about the sacrament of Extreme Unction, or Last Rites. Basically, what happens is the priest gives you absolution for your earthly sins. The catch is you have to be contrite or truly and honestly sorry that you committed them. I remember asking one of the nuns "Sister, now really. What's the catch?" Because, if you're on your deathbed and this means getting into heaven, who isn't going to be truly and honestly sorry for any sins they committed? If it will help, I'll confess to a few I didn't commit. And believe me, I won't be kidding when I do because, after all, He'll know.

The number two answer is only marginally better than the first because, when you think about it, reflection is really just a way of looking at what's wrong with your life and how many of us want to spend time doing that? For me, true reflection comes when I drain the last of my scotch and realize I forgot to buy more. And what is the thing with roses, anyway? Give me the aroma of a nice, juicy steak anytime.

No, if someone asks me on my deathbed what I regret most about my life, there is only one correct answer:

I regret that I'm on my deathbed. Idiot.