From Laughter to Reflection

On my birthday, the scene was as joyful and familiar as ever. I was surrounded by the warmth of family and friends, indulging in delicious food, sharing laughs, and sipping on my favorite wine. The room was filled with the comforting buzz of conversation - everything from playful jokes to deep, thoughtful discussions. In that moment of celebration, I found myself savoring the simple pleasures of life.

My 10-year-old nephew, with his wide-eyed curiosity, made a comment that left us all in stitches. As we raised our glasses for a toast, he declared with a grin, “When the time comes, there will be wine in your veins, not blood!” The room erupted in laughter, and I replied with a chuckle, “Who cares? In the end, I’ll just be ash!”

The conversation continued, and my other nephew humorously suggested that my ashes would be red, as if my love for wine could somehow be immortalized even in death. I laughed at the thought of my red, wine-colored ashes fluttering away on the wind. It was a moment of light-heartedness and joy, but as the evening went on, I found myself reflecting on something deeper.

For nearly two decades, wine and good food have been constants in my life. Each evening, as the sun sets, I find comfort in the routine of uncorking a bottle of wine, savoring its rich flavors, and pairing it with a spread of delectable dishes. It’s a ritual that has brought me happiness and connection, a way to celebrate the little moments and mark the passing of time.

But in that moment of laughter and reflection, I began to ask myself: If I wanted to quit, could I? I realized that despite the awareness of its effects on my health, the thought of giving up wine was not something I could entertain. The joy it brings me is too significant, too entwined with my daily happiness to simply let go of.

Yes, I am aware that wine, like many pleasures, carries certain health risks. Over the years, I have seen the signs: frequent headaches, the warnings from my doctor, the increasing frequency of those little health scares. But in the grand scheme of things, I found myself questioning the value of living longer if it meant sacrificing the things that bring me joy. After all, what is life without the moments of pleasure and contentment? Should we extend our lives at the cost of our happiness? It’s a paradox that many face: the balance between enjoying the present and planning for the future.

If there is one concern that weighs on my mind, it’s my dog. He has been my companion through thick and thin, a source of unconditional love and joy. The thought of leaving him behind, of him facing a world without me, is a heart-wrenching one. I worry about who will care for him, who will understand his quirks and needs, who will love him as much as I do. This worry is not about my own mortality but about his future. I hope to live long enough to ensure that he has a happy and comfortable life, surrounded by love and care. Once that responsibility is fulfilled, my thoughts about death become simpler.

As I reflect on these thoughts, I come to a profound realization. Death, while often seen as scary or intimidating, is simply another part of life’s journey. It is not the end but a transition, a closing of one chapter and the beginning of another. I have lived a life filled with moments of joy, love, and laughter. I have embraced the things that make me happy—like enjoying a good glass of wine with friends and family. I have cherished my time, made memories, and found contentment in the little things. When the time comes, I hope to face it with the same open arms and acceptance that I have approached the rest of my life.

In the end, it is not about how long we live but how fully we embrace our moments. It’s about finding joy in the present, cherishing our experiences, and accepting that death is a natural part of life’s cycle. It’s about knowing that while we cannot take our pleasures with us, we can live in a way that makes those pleasures meaningful and memorable. 

So, as I sit writing this blog, with a glass of wine,  I am at peace with the idea of death. I will embrace it as a part of the journey, knowing that I have lived well, loved deeply, and found happiness in the moments that matter.