100%

I've been thinking about the meaning of 100%. You know, one hundred means all, the whole, everything.

In Christopher's life, seventeen equaled 100%.  My dad? Forty-seven equaled 100%.  My great Aunt Theresa?  One hundred one equaled 100%.  Why is that?  How come people die at all ages?

When I thought about having a family and raising children it never dawned on me that seventeen would be my son's 100% complete life.  What percent does that equal out to yearly? How much of his life was spent daily?  Yes, I know there's a mathematical equation for this.  My question is more hypothetical.  My mind can't do the math nor do I really want to.  I'm just thinking out loud.

I never got pregnant with such thoughts in my mind.  I feel blindsided in knowing the life I had planned for my son will never come to be.  He will have no children.  I will have no grandchildren from him.  Now I will only wonder what they would have looked like, what their names would be and what their personalities would be like.  This is tragically unfair.

Christopher's 100% has thrown me for a loop.  It's not the 100% I was hoping for or expecting.  Who would ever expect a child's 100% to be complete before high school ends?  I've been thrown an enormous curve ball.  I was planning forward toward college for him, a career, marriage, children and old age... I expected Chris would repeat the same process I'm going thru.  Why wouldn't I? I want it for both my boys.  I can "want" all I want, it's not happening.

I'm trying to make sense of it when I totally object.  It's way out of line with everything I ever hoped for and looked forward to.  I'm dragging my feet on accepting it, I know this but I'm trying to reason it out with myself and God.  I will continue moving forward but I do hesitate and stumble.  My future plans for Christopher have been halted.  I need to embrace that his 100% is complete in the eyes of God and he has done all he was supposed to do.  The trouble is, I want more.  I'm not done with his 100% even though God is telling me so.  I believe God asks me to pick things up for Chris now.  I'm listening.  I hear you.

I wonder what my 100% is?  Will I grow to be eighty-seven like my mom?  Or one hundred one like my Aunt?

I also got to thinking about the quality of Christopher's 100%... as well as mine... and yours.  Have we done the best we can?  Is there room for improvement in making each day count?  Have we learned something new each day or shared one of our skills with someone else?  Maybe even just acted as a listener instead of being the talker?

Since Chris passed at seventeen years, eleven months then that's approximately 6,540 days.  I wonder if he felt they were good quality days?  Did he make the most of them? What would he have done differently if he knew seventeen was his 100%?

It gets me to thinking about the preciousness of life.  The meaning of not taking things for granted has struck me in a new and profound way.  Yes, we've all heard the words over and over from a multitude of people but they make so much sense!  How do any of us know when it's our 100% or that of someone we love?  Only God knows this.

Chris' 100% was sudden.  Others 100% is expected, either because of old age or because of a slow progressing, fatal illness.  Some peoples passing is easier to accept because there's some warning to it.  A chance to digest it over time even if we object and plead and deny it.

I'm going to make a conscious effort to make my days more productive.  I have no idea exactly what I'll do but it will be something positive, even if it's just a small gesture.  I have a refreshed sense of realizing that tomorrow is not guaranteed.  I know I can do better.  I wont beat myself up over not doing more in the past, I'll just focus forward and be a better me now.  Chris would like that and I can see God is teaching me a lesson which I'm hearing and learning. I'd like to feel good about my 100% when the time comes.

Thank you for reading.