It hit like a kick in the head. The death of Luke Perry, also known as the first fantastical love of my life, the bad boy that taught me that bad boys can be sexy as hell and the star I would never meet that would always be on my bucket list.
Now he is gone. At 52 years old. Middle aged. Active. Slim. A family man. A hard worker by all accounts, the epitome of humble and kind; according to reports since my bucket list will never be complete.
But he is gone. Just like that. Not through the bad boy actions of drugs, drinking, fast driving and an unhealthy lifestyle. Not in a Hollywood cliche. But just walking around, living his life, being a father, an actor, a husband.
Gone at an age not much older than me.
I am 46. I am a mom, fairly healthy, active, a hard worker… and I now understand that I could die tomorrow.
The doctor’s appointments I keep putting off. The pounds that I am losing but should have lost 10 years ago. The lack of sleep. The stress that is too high. The anger that resides in me after past wrongs. They are all weighing on my mind, causing me to reassess two things.
Am I prepared to Die?
Am I prepared to Live?
Am I Prepared to Die?
Am I? If I have a massive stroke, a car accident or a heart attack tomorrow, am I prepared? Do people know how to claim my life insurance for the girls? Do people know how to get into my bank accounts for the girls? Do people know how to find the information on the house, car, assets so that the girls can benefit from the sale? Does anyone know about the trust for them?
I suppose the beneficiary does but how will I know for sure unless I take the time to get my affairs in order? For the benefit of my children.
More importantly, does everyone I know know how I feel about them? Have I been extremely clear with my girls on how much I love them? How proud I am of them? How they made my life the best one ever just by being here?
Do my parents know how much they are my angels on Earth? Do they know that they saved my life by adopting me? Do they know I would not be who I am without them?
Do my friends know that even the simplest hug and hello makes my day? Do they know I could not do it without their support?
Am I prepared to die? Am I really?
Am I Prepared to LIVE?
Yes. I breathe. I get up every day and I take my kids to school, do my work, pick up my kids from school, try to find creative ways to get out of making dinner and put everyone to bed. I am alive. But am I living?
Where am I on that bucket list? I didn’t randomly run into Dylan McKay and let him fall head over heels in love with me but what about everything else? I keep coming up with excuses.
It is expensive. My kids would never want to do it with me. Maybe next year.
With the death of a 52 year old man who, by all accounts, was living a great life, it is time that this 46 year old woman stop with the excuses and start living!
Because, we now all know, those of us who still think we have all the time in the world like the kids on 90210, it can end tomorrow.
Mortality just slapped us all in the face. Hard.