...A couple of weeks ago I finished reading "Candles on Bay Street", after purposely skipping the Hallmark movie of the same name around Thanksgiving. (I wrote this almost immediately after finishing that slim little book.) I've rarely liked Hallmark's adaptations of movies that are supposed to warm your heart by making you cry. I much prefer the books that make you cry.

And cry I did. Maybe it's because it's that time of month, maybe it was the glass of Pinot Grigot that DH gave me to relax from a headache and clenched jaw. Maybe both, but cry I did.

For those who don't want to know more about the story, don't read on. Come back tomorrow. For those who already know, or who don't care, then continue...

For lack of a better description, the heroine dies. Or maybe she was a secondary heroine, I'm not sure, since the hero was married to someone else and the woman who dies was his first love, his best friend. It's not that important what level of heroine she was, point of the matter is: she dies. But before she does so, she touches a lot of lives. And in one of the final scenes, they all come bearing candles. A vigil for her and her life, before she does the hardest thing anyone can do while facing a terminal illness: taking her own life, with the help of her best friend.

I want someone to light a candle for me when it's my time to go.

I don't want to be alone, but instead with someone I love who loves me. It's selfish I know, having to expose someone I love to watching me leave this life, but I think it would be easier to handle than dying alone. No one should have to die alone.

I don't want to be remembered in tears, but instead with a smile and by someone with warmth in their heart instead of sadness in their head.

I don't want people to cry when it's my time to leave this place, but to feel fortunate because I feel very blessed to have known them and hope that they feel the same.

No, I'm not dying. I don't even have a cold at the moment. I *am* rather sore from a workout at the gym, but it's not going to kill me (at least I don't think it will). I intend to live for a very long time to come. But the story brought out feelings of mortality in me, and realization that life can be very short. Tell the people you love that you love them before they're gone. Appreciate the little things that people do for you, even if it's as simple as holding open a door to let you pass. Live a happy life filled with smiles.

I would say that the paper is now tear stained and ink is running but I'm not writing this on paper (few of my entries actually start on paper, to tell you the truth), and I'm sitting back so that my keyboard doesn't get wet either. I don't know why I chose to read this book at this time, other than I know I need to return it to the library shortly.

It brought about a strong reaction, not that someone was taking their life but instead that they were living and dying on their own terms instead of whatever the higher powers that be had slated for them. Perhaps I needed a reminder, or it's another way of making me take stock of things that I didn't take stock of when I wrote about friendship a couple of weeks ago. My face is wet with tears, my head is heavy and the wine in my glass is almost gone. Clearly, it's time for a refill...

...of life, of smiles, of love.