On Sunday I happened upon a radio program where people were calling in and telling how they would spend one last day with a loved one who had passed away.
Normally, I would have immediately changed the station.
I don't do well with mushy.
However, my parents have been on my mind even more than usual lately, so I listened to one caller.
And then I changed the station to NPR.
But that didn't stop my mind from mulling over the question for myself. The answer came immediately and with certainty.
If I had one more day to spend with my parents it would be a beautiful Texas Spring day. The sun would be shining and there would be a light and lovely breeze with just a hint coolness to caress our sun warmed skin. Various family members would be lounging in the assortment of rusting lawn chairs Dad has collected over the years. At least two of the grandchildren would be swinging in the metal "porch" swing that has hung for years from one of the huge oak trees in their yard.
Their children would be gathered and would be enjoying each others company. Because that is what made my parents happiest.
Dad would be amused at something my sisters and I were discussing.
There would be lots of teasing among my brothers and sisters, nieces and nephews.
Mom would laugh out loud at something shockingly funny.
Most cherished would be the stories from my parents. Stories of their childhood, early married life and of when my oldest brother was just a baby. The stories would progress to times after various of their children had been born and as each siblings' memories ripened the stories would become embellished with each person's memory of the happenings.
Iced tea would be consumed.
Love and contentment would rule the day.
And that's how it would be if I had one more day with my parents.