This past December, I spent the holidays caring for my 87-year old uncle as he succumbed to a brain tumor. Ira was a childless widower. I was his closest living relative and primary caregiver.
As I sat in a Boston hospice, watching Ira’s life drain out of him, I was powerfully reminded that yes, there is a Judgment Day.
Regardless of whether or not we are religious, most of us, in our last weeks, will give ourselves the ultimate performance review. Barring sudden death, we’ll ask some variation of the inevitable questions: did I live the life I wanted to live? Did I realize all the possibilities of what my life could be?