“Living While Dying: What the Dying Teach Us About Truly Living”

There is something profoundly unsettling about staring mortality in the face. Most of us live as if time is infinite, pushing dreams to the distant future, postponing meaningful conversations, and assuming that tomorrow is guaranteed. However, for those diagnosed with a terminal illness, the illusion of endless days shatters, forcing them to confront life in its rawest form. Strangely, in the midst of death, many discover what it truly means to live.

For many, a terminal diagnosis serves as a brutal wake-up call, yet it also brings remarkable clarity. When doctors deliver the news that someone has only months to live, the trivialities that once consumed their days fade away. Petty grudges lose their weight, societal expectations become laughable, and the relentless pursuit of success suddenly seems hollow. So, what remains? Love. Connection. Presence. These patients often articulate a deeper appreciation for the ordinary: the warmth of the sun on their skin, the sound of a loved one’s laughter, the scent of morning coffee. They teach us that life is not measured in years but in the depth of our experiences and the authenticity of our relationships.

One striking example is Jennifer, a 42-year-old mother of three, diagnosed with late-stage ovarian cancer. Before her diagnosis, Jennifer was a workaholic, constantly chasing promotions and deadlines. Her calendar overflowed with meetings, leaving little room for anything else. However, after her prognosis, her perspective shifted dramatically. She realized she had been merely existing rather than truly living. Instead of spending her final months drowning in regret, she embraced life in a way she never had before.

Jennifer took her children out of school for spontaneous road trips. She indulged in long, heartfelt conversations with friends. She found joy in the simple act of reading a book in the park. It wasn’t about extravagant bucket-list adventures; it was about being present and truly experiencing the life she had left. This shift in mindset exemplifies how confronting mortality can illuminate what truly matters.

Dr. Ira Brock, a palliative care physician, has spent decades working with terminal patients. In his book The Four Things That Matter Most, he notes that patients nearing the end often find peace by articulating four simple phrases: “Please forgive me,” “I forgive you,” “Thank you,” and “I love you.” These words encapsulate the emotional healing that becomes a priority when time is short. Grievances that once seemed insurmountable suddenly feel insignificant compared to the weight of love and connection. If we all lived with this awareness, how much lighter would our hearts be? How many relationships would we mend before it was too late?

Beyond emotional lessons, terminal patients also impart crucial insights about time, our most precious, non-renewable resource. While the average person might waste hours scrolling through social media or binge-watching shows, those facing death become fiercely intentional about their time. They prioritize passion projects, spend hours in nature, and make an effort to be fully present with loved ones. It serves as a stark reminder that we, too, are running out of time; we just don’t know how much we have left. What if we lived with that urgency now instead of waiting for a diagnosis to wake us up?

For some, the journey through a terminal illness brings unexpected gifts. Take Robert, a retired teacher diagnosed with ALS. Initially devastated, he soon found solace in writing letters to his grandchildren, filled with wisdom, humor, and life advice they could treasure long after he was gone. He also rediscovered his love for painting, creating vibrant pieces that expressed emotions he struggled to articulate. Crafting something meaningful, something that would outlive him, gave him a newfound sense of purpose. (Consider a beautifully bound journal to document your thoughts, memories, and reflections, it’s never too early to start capturing your legacy.)

The experience of facing death also transforms relationships. Many patients report that while some friends disappear out of discomfort, others step forward in extraordinary ways. Acts of kindness become more profound, whether it’s a neighbor dropping off home-cooked meals or a long-lost friend making an unexpected visit. In these final moments, love takes center stage. The most valuable currency is no longer wealth or achievements but the love one has given and received.

Interestingly, this heightened awareness often leads to liberation. There is an undeniable freedom in realizing that societal expectations no longer matter. Many terminal patients shed inhibitions, express themselves more openly, and embrace joy without reservation. They dance without worrying about looking foolish, laugh louder, and cry unapologetically. If only we could grant ourselves that same permission now.

Despite the wisdom terminal patients share, many of us resist these lessons until faced with our mortality. We convince ourselves that there’s always more time, that we’ll prioritize what truly matters someday. But what if we started today? What if we forgave faster, loved deeper, and lived more fully now? What if we didn’t wait for a diagnosis to remind us that life is fleeting?

These questions linger long after the patients who inspire them are gone. Their stories stay with us, nudging us to reconsider our choices and reframe our priorities. Perhaps that is their final gift, the reminder that we, too, are on borrowed time, and the best way to honor our lives is to truly live them.

So, what’s stopping you from embracing life more fully today? If you had only months left, what would you change? Think about these questions, for the answers may hold the key to living a life without regrets. Embrace the present, mend broken relationships, and focus on what truly matters. Life is fleeting, and the time to live fully is now.